


Second Chance

by bilgegungoren00



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Death, F/M, Future Fic, Grief, Kara's death, Loss, Mon-El P.O.V, Reunion, Time Travel, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, timeline change
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-10-17 05:31:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 26
Words: 188,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10587453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bilgegungoren00/pseuds/bilgegungoren00
Summary: One moment can change everything.When Mon-El lost Kara, his fiancee, in an alien invasion one year ago, he thought he’d never see her again. Since then he’s been trying to build himself a life and pick up whatever pieces of him was left after losing her, and he’s been failing miserably. Just when he thinks he can’t go on anymore and loses all hope, he’s thrust into a world completely different than his; a world in which everything he used to know is changed. Which includes Kara Danvers never dying on that fateful night.Mon-El soon finds out it won’t be as easy as he hoped it would be to reverse the changes, especially when with each passing day he gets more sucked up into his new life. Because in the end, reversing everything means losing Kara all over again, and he’s not sure he’s strong enough to go through that a second time.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys!!! 
> 
> Wow, I can't believe I'm finally posting the first chapter right now. I've been working on this fic for three weeks, and it seemed like this day wouldn't come. But it did, and I'm really excited for it! I hope you like it as well!
> 
> A couple of things I should point out about the fic:  
> \- This is a future fic, taking place about 5-6 years after the events of Supergirl season 2.  
> \- It's canon compliant up to the point the show is now, and could also include the rest of season 2 as well.  
> \- At the point the story starts Kara has been dead for exactly a year.  
> \- Mon-El and Kara were engaged before Kara was killed.
> 
> Aaaaaaaand those are pretty much what I think are important at this point. Other things will be explained as the story moves along. Still, if you have any questions, please feel free to ask!
> 
> I hope you like it!

His life started just as it ended. In an instant, a moment, a second. Before he could realize or process what was happening.

His world was being destroyed. His friends getting crushed under the corpse of a fallen planet, his city crumbling down as meteorites crashed through buildings like they were made of paper, his planet getting stripped off of his hands with every second that passed. Agony, fear, desperation, helplessness. He’d felt it all as he watched his life getting torn down from the safety of his pod.

His life restarted when he landed on the planet its habitants called Earth. He’d opened his eyes to a blinding, luminous light, and two comets watching him from above. They breathed life into him. And then he met their owner; who has been so many things to him throughout the years: His enemy, his unlikely partner, his friend, his lover, his fiancée. She helped him rebuild a life he thought he’d lost forever.

It only lasted for so long. At the end, just as he’d lost a life in the blink of an eye all those years ago, he’d lost his life now in the blink of an eye. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time. She wasn’t strong enough, or fast enough. He wasn’t there to help. And after all that time, just as he thought he’s found a life worth living, he watched his love fall from the sky, like a shooting star, to her death. He couldn’t save her.

His life ended just as it started. In an instant, a moment, a second. But this time, there was no going back.


	2. Failure

**20 th of March, 2022**

**_14:26_ **

Mon-El popped open the bottle of club soda in his hand as he sat down on the couch, pulling his laptop on his lap. He’d been putting off checking his emails since he woke up, not wanting to bother with what his editor sent him. Yet he could imagine what must’ve been written in them.

His guess was right. He had five emails, the last one being sent about five minutes ago. Sighing, he went through them one by one:

_Mike. I’m sure you know about the new TV show_ Phoenix _. I know you said you didn’t want to review its synopsis and trailer a couple of weeks ago, but I thought you might’ve had a change of heart. The first episode aired yesterday. I think you can do a good job with its review. I need it up tomorrow, so I need you to send it to me no later than tonight. Please let me know you got this as soon as possible. Savanna Barret, Editor at Gemm._

_Mike. Please answer my last email. It’s imperative you get this review done today. Savanna Barret, Editor at Gemm._

_Mike. It’s been two hours. You’re getting me worried. If you don’t get back to me in an hour, I’ll be giving the review to someone else. But I think you’re our best critic to evaluate_ Phoenix _. It’s the genre you usually work on. Please get yourself out of whatever hell you’re in and write the review. Savanna Barret, Editor at Gemm._

_Mike. What has gotten into you? You used to answer my emails immediately. You also aren’t returning my calls. Please contact me as soon as you can._

_Mike… Damn you. Call me._

Mon-El sighed as he reached for his phone, pressing his lips together. He really didn’t like to get Savanna to the level where she had to curse. She _really_ didn’t become a very nice woman when she was angry. It sometimes reminded him of Kara; the way her forehead crinkled, her brows furrowed, and how she crossed her arms and stared at him with her intense eyes. The difference was, though, Savanna had green eyes instead of Kara’s comet-like blue ones that pierced Mon-El.

He pressed on the woman’s name on his phone and brought the device to his ear, taking a sip from his club soda for encouragement. Savanna answered on the first ring. “Mike! Finally. Where the _hell_ have you been? Why weren’t you answering my emails?” The Daxamite rested his forehead against his hand and shook his head.

“At home? I… I slept in, I’m sorry. I just woke up.” He knew it wasn’t a good lie, but he really didn’t have anything else. He couldn’t really say he didn’t feel like getting out of bed, right? He couldn’t say he lied there, staring at the ceiling for two hours. He couldn’t say… He couldn’t say staying there felt like time had stopped and, even though it was far from the truth, he needed so badly for time to stop. As if it would help with anything. As if it would stop tomorrow from coming.

“It’s two p.m. You never sleep past ten a.m.”

“I know, I know,” Mon-El said and straightened up. Running his fingers over his face, he tried to shake off his sleepiness. “I’m sorry. But…” He looked at his computer again, reading the name of the TV show. His heart clenched as he closed his eyes and shook his head, trying to keep out the dark memories. “Savanna, I told you I didn’t want anything to do with _Phoenix.”_ His voice was laced with desperation.

He could feel Savanna’s confusion even over the phone. “Yeah, but I thought it was only about… I thought you were just having a bad day.”

“I wasn’t,” he said bitterly before Savanna could even finish her sentence. The woman didn’t say anything for a couple of seconds, assumingly surprised by Mon-El’s outburst. The Daxamite suddenly felt bad about his words. It wasn’t as if he was angry at Savanna. “I really don’t think I’m the right person for it.”

“I think you are,” Savanna argued. “Why don’t you want to write it anyway?”

“Because I…” Mon-El started, but then his voice trailed off. How could he say his reasons to Savanna? How could he make her understand? She didn’t even know who he truly was. He couldn’t just up and tell him that the TV show written in honor of _Supergirl_ brought too many memories of his fiancée. Technically, he shouldn’t even _know_ Supergirl.

“Look, Mike, I’ve watched the show myself, and it’s really good. It’s the perfect fit for you. Just give it a try, okay? And if you really can’t write it, then I’ll find someone else.” The woman’s anger had dissipated with those words, only hope and excitement filling her voice. Mon-El leaned forward and pressed his hand over his eyes, trying to keep his breath steady. It took him a couple of seconds to decide, and another couple of seconds to give her the answer.

“Fine. I’ll—I’ll try. But I don’t promise anything.”

“Great! Let me know what you decide.” She stopped for a second. “I gotta go now. You can let me—“

“Wait, Savanna,” Mon-El stopped her, lifting his head. “I need to ask you something.”

“Okay,” Savanna said warily. “That sounds serious. Shoot.”

“Is it okay… Will it be okay for you if I take the day off tomorrow? I mean, I’ve been working hard for the last couple of weeks.” There was a moment of silence as Savanna processed what he was saying. Mon-El could feel her confusion.

“Um, why? Is there something special tomorrow?” Mon-El throat tightened as he absentmindedly stared at his laptop screen.

“It’s my fiancée’s death anniversary.” His voice was hoarse as he blinked away his tears, pulling his thought together to keep himself from falling apart. Awkward silence filled the room.

“Oh,” was all Savanna could say at first. “I didn’t know you had a fiancée.”

“I had.” Mon-El took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair. “So, would it be okay for you?” he tried asking nonchalantly. Still, agony was evident in his voice as he couldn’t keep out the shakiness.

“Yeah, yeah, of course. Take as much time as you can.” She stopped for a second. “I’ll see you later then.”

“Yeah. Bye, Savanna.” With that, he ended the call, staring at the screen in front of him blankly, the name _Phoenix_ shining in red.

He didn’t want to do it. He didn’t want to watch a show that would only open a scar that was too fresh and sensitive. The date of the day was already enough to depress him; he didn’t want to add onto that with…with something else to remind him of Kara. It hurt enough already, and it would never stop hurting.

He used to like doing his job. Everything about it; watching scenes from the shows or movies over and over again, trying to catch micro expressions and small gestures to guess characters’ feelings, predicting where the show might take them depending on what they’d put them through in a particular episode, and more often than not seeing his predictions actually come to life. He sometimes even had discussed it with Kara, debating over different storylines, making bets, and keeping score as to who predicted more things correctly. He’d been winning about 150 to 80 when…

He took another huge gulp from the club soda to slip away from his thoughts, put his feelings aside, and watch the damn show. He hadn’t heard anything about it; he basically avoided any kind of… _anything_ that contained the word _Phoenix_. Yet that didn’t keep him from hearing how the show had been a total hit.

_America loved Supergirl. Could I have expected anything different?_

According to stuff he’d saw online the previous night, despite his attempts to ignore them, he’d heard that the protagonist, played by someone named Melissa Benoist—he recognized the woman from the musical TV show he used to watch until it also became too painful—resembled Supergirl, not necessarily in appearance but in character and behavior. He almost had wanted to laugh at that comment. How could whoever wrote the comment know what Supergirl was really like? They didn’t know her other than the Supergirl mask. But Kara… Kara wasn’t just Supergirl. She didn’t use to be just Supergirl. She’d been this…this amazing reporter who always fought to protect innocents, who stuck with her values no matter what others said, who never let anyone make her believe she deserved anything less than what she wanted, who was so strong and independent and confident that she had an aura that made you want to stay close to her. She’d also liked club soda and kept a stock of it at her and Mon-El’s home, and she’d loved eating no matter what time of day it was (and bragged about how she didn’t get fat), and her favorite color had been blue, and anything with sugar and chocolate had been her weakness, and she’d gotten so caught up in books and characters that she’d experienced their emotions as her own, and the couch in her house was so special to them that it was the only thing she hadn’t changed when they renovated the house, and… He could literally go on and on for the rest of his life and still it wouldn’t be able to describe who Kara truly was. And these people… They really thought they could know who Supergirl was just based on a few news footages and interviews?

Not that it really mattered. The show was out. People liked it. It brought money, and that was all people cared about.

He _really_ didn’t want to watch it.

He had to suck it up, though, because it was his job. He’d done it many times. All he needed to do was watch the show, think like his old self and produce something his old self would write. It’d almost become routine for him now, something you did without necessarily thinking about it. He didn’t think about what he wrote anymore; he just put himself into a specific mindset and distanced his real self from the whole deal. Granted, some would argue it made his writing detached and emotionless, but he wasn’t in a position to care. People read his reviews. They liked them. He got to keep his job. That was enough for him.

Sighing, he put his phone away and adjusted the speed of the show to 3.0. He wanted to get over this as soon as possible. Besides, his superspeed made up for the fastness of the show. One of the perks of being an alien.

_Kara hated me for it when I watched TV shows faster, though_ , he couldn’t help thinking. _She said it ruined the whole point._ Shaking his head, he quickly pushed that thought away. It was about tenth time he thought about Kara today, and it wasn’t even 2 p.m. yet. It wasn’t _healthy_.

A ping coming from the oven alerted him that his caramel popcorn was ready. “Finally,” he sighed as he stood up, grabbed the popcorn from oven and poured it into a bowl. All of his actions seemed like he was performing them and slow motion, as if he didn’t want to go back to the couch. The poster of the TV show was open on the screen, taunting him. There was a girl on the poster, around seventeen years old. She had red hair that cascaded down her back and shoulders in waves, as well as bangs that covered the top half of his face. Still, his blue eyes shone through the veil of red as if they were illuminated. Her chin was ducked, yet her lips curled into a small smile were visible. She had a black scarf lazily tossed around her neck, and a black leather jacket whose right side was adorned with the design of a flame that almost looked like it engulfed right side of her body. Underneath the jacket she wore a blood red T-shirt, visible behind her hands that opened in front of her, palms facing up. Inside her palms four streaks of light swirled around each other, each one representing one of the four elements. Apparently, the girl had the power to control elements.

Mon-El clenched his teeth as he tore his eyes from the poster and instead focused on his popcorn. He didn’t know how, or why, but something in the girl reminded him of Kara. It wasn’t about appearance; the only feature they shared was the woman’s blue eyes. He had barely seen Kara in a leather jacket, let alone one with a dark color. She always dressed in lighter tones, her clothes reflecting the joyousness of her personality. But it was… It must’ve been the way the girl looked at the screen with determination in her eyes, with self-confidence in her smile, with kindness on her face and selflessness in her posture, that made him think of Kara. Maybe the comments made about the show was right. Maybe they really had done a good job reflecting at least the “Supergirl” part of Kara Zor-El.

He took a deep breath as he closed his eyes and tried to relieve the crushing weight on his chest. A part of him felt guilty for avoiding the show. It was done to honor Supergirl, the woman that he loved, and all he’d done… All he’d done was what? Ignore it? Not wanting to bother with it because it was too painful? How was that fair for Kara? She deserved being remembered in the best way possible. And… And Supergirl was a part of her. A part that Kara loved dearly, a part she’d never give up no matter what. It was one of the things Mon-El loved about her. And yet here he was, terrified of watching a TV show he should’ve supported from day one because he was terrified of the memories it would bring? It was cowardly. It was running away yet again from his problems, something he once promised Kara he’d never do. It was… It was unfair to her memory. He should’ve been honored that Savanna decided to give the review to him. All in all, even though she had no idea, who could know Supergirl better than him?

Opening his eyes, he stared at his computer screen for a couple of moments before shaking his head. His eyes flickered to the wall in front of him, decorated with photos. Photos of Alex, and Winn, and James, and J’onn, and even one or two of Kara’s Earth 1 friends, and…and Kara. Kara with him. On their dates. In DEO. At home. Laughing, smiling, dancing, singing, running, and even flying. His hand went to his Legion ring, the one that gave him the ability to fly, and remembered the day all those years ago Kara slid it into his finger and he joked about how he thought men were supposed to be the ones proposing. Kara had just laughed, shaking it off as a joke, probably not thinking one day it would become real as this time he proposed to her and she said yes. He sometimes teased her about it, and each time she got annoyed and flustered and hit her with her elbow, yet always a smile played in her eyes.

He reached for his neck, taking out the chain. Another ring dangled from the end of it, this one a diamond ring. Kara’s engagement ring. After… After she was gone, he couldn’t just get rid of it or put it away. It pained him too much to look at it, but it pained him even more to think he could put something like that aside, as if it meant nothing. It didn’t mean nothing. It was everything to him. So he’d made a chain around the ring and wore it around his neck, carrying the symbol of his and Kara’s love close to his heart. Some days, he didn’t notice the weight of it around his neck, but he always noticed the heaviness of emotions in his heart.

He took a deep breath as he shook of those thoughts, and reached for his notebook and pen again. He pressed the start button on his computer before he lost his courage, broke down, and spend the whole day curled under a blanket staring off at nothing.

* * *

**_15:02_ **

Mon-El’s pen broke into two pieces in his hand as his grip on it suddenly tightened. The pieces first dropped on his notebook, and then down to the floor, leaving blue ink stains all over the place, including his hands and black sweatpants. Yet he didn’t notice. His eyes were locked on the screen in front of him, the image that was moving in slow motion to his eyes as he tried to process it numbly. He wasn’t even thinking as his clean hand shot forward and stopped the TV show, freezing the scene forever.

It was her. Supergirl. _Kara_. Staring at him from the screen with those deep blue eyes of her and a vague smile on her face, giving her strong and proud look. Her cape was swishing behind her as she looked directly to the camera. Mon-El had no idea how or when someone took a close-up shot of her, but here it was. And he couldn’t look away, not from her eyes, not from her hair, her cape, or the writing in the middle of the screen:

In honor of  
SUPERGIRL  
NATIONAL CITY’S HERO  
09.26.2015 – 03.21.2021  
GONE, BUT NEVER FORGOTTEN

His eyes slowly filled with tears without him even noticing until the words and Kara’s image blurred into a swirl of red, blue, and white. He still didn’t turn his eyes away. He continued staring at it until the weight crushing his chest became too heavy, until his lungs felt too small to get sufficient air, until pain was too much to bear. He didn’t even think as he shut the lid of laptop, barely managing to contain his strength as to not turn the device into a useless mess of metal and wires. He clenches his teeth and took his face in his hands, willing himself to calm down. _Steady breaths_ , he thought. _Steady breaths, and everything will be fine. Everything has to be fine_.

It didn’t work. Why did he think watching the show in the first place was a good idea? It wasn’t. There were… There were too many memories associated with it that he couldn’t escape. Not that it was a bad episode; it was pretty good actually, and that was exactly the problem. The show really had done a good job representing what Supergirl stood for: protecting innocents at the risk of anything. The protagonist, Melanie “Mel” Fischer, had these amazing powers ever since she was born, yet she was too afraid to use them since in her childhood all they ever brought her was rejection and hate. It wasn’t exactly how Kara’s story went, but there were elements of it. Kara was afraid to tell people she was an alien as well, since it could get her hate and imprisonment. Another difference was that, as far as Mon-El guessed, something that happened to Mel in the past caused her to go off the rails and use her powers for bad, and she was now terrified of going back to that place. Yet still, eventually, she’d stepped up to stop a fire, and the episode ended with her putting on the leather jacket and a red wig over her light brown curls—she resembled Kara even more with her hair’s natural color—to basically create a superhero identity, which Mon-El predicted would eventually be named Phoenix. It was a solid episode that set up the scene for a whole lot of possibilities, and one could easily write a detailed review about it as there were lots of stuff to talk about, but it was still such a bad idea to even try this. He was…

He was caught too off guard. Some scenes in the episode already had made him grimace and he had to stop it for a couple of seconds to compose himself, but seeing Kara at the end… It was the thing that did it for him. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t write anything about the show without tearing up, let alone actually analyzing Mel’s character and probably comparing her with Supergirl, as her editor would like him to do. Cowardice, avoidance, running away, whatever you called it, it didn’t matter. He wasn’t strong enough to do it. Even the thought of writing that review made his breath catch. It hurt _too much_.

Reaching for his phone with shaky fingers, he quickly turned it on to call Savanna. Yet he stopped short when he saw his phone background. His heart plummeted in his chest when he once again found himself face to face with her blue eyes. Guilt churned in his stomach as he stared at her until the phone closed. It was a photo that Mon-El took when he and Kara went to vacation in Hawaii. There weren’t any seas to swim in on neither Daxam nor Krypton, so when Mon-El said he saw it on multiple movies—basically almost all romance movies—where people went to sea to swim and end up splashing water to each other, Kara surprised him with tickets to Hawaii. They spent a week there while the rest of team Supergirl here made up for their absence. They couldn’t thank J’onn enough for dressing up as Supergirl and going out while they relaxed for a week at least.

Kara was smiling in the photo. Her hair was loose and cascading down her back like a waterfall, black sunglasses were adorning her eyes—even though she wasn’t really bothered by the sun—and she was laughing at Mon-El’s attempts to use a digital camera. He’d had to fumble with it, but at the end he managed to take an absolutely natural and beautiful photo of Kara in her black bikini and white beach “kimono” as she called it. She was the embodiment of perfection.

And she was gone. Just like that, this woman who brightened the world was taken away from it, leaving the days duller and nights darker.

“I can’t do it,” he whispered at his phone, even though Kara was gone. Cursing under his breath, he ran his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry, Kara. You—You believed in me, you believed that… That I can be strong and brave without you but I… I can’t. Not…Not when you’re gone.” He shook his head and swallowed back his tears. “I can’t even write a damn article without feeling like someone is ripping out my heart. This—This can’t be living. And if it is… Then I don’t want any part of it.” He pressed his lips together desperately. “Not without you.” He bowed his head as tears overwhelmed him, sliding down his cheeks non-stop. Silent sobs shook his chest as he tried to keep his voice down and failed. It was too much. Everything was too much.

_You were really brave, Mon-El_. Kara’s voice filled Mon-El’s mind as it pulled up a memory from years ago, around the time they first met, before they even started dating. _You could still be scared while being brave. Maybe there’s a hero in you after all_. He saw her smile and pat him on the shoulder, and then another memory came up.

They were on Slaver’s Moon, Kara’s comets piercing into him. _That's what heroes do. They fight. They don't sit and hide in a bar because it's easier than getting involved. I believe you keep fighting. Whether you're stuck on another world, whether or not you have your powers, you never give in._

And then they were back, sitting on the couch. A red blanket covered Kara’s legs as she smiled at him. _Yesterday, you were a little less Goofus, and a little more Gallant_.

The blanket turned yellow as Mon-El watched Kara, and this time Kara stared at him with eyes that were filled with love. _I think you were pretty brave_. _I’m not going to forget the way you sacrificed yourself for me. Ever._ She smiled at him, filling his chest with pride and love, as he leaned in to kiss her.

Now they were on the Daxamite spaceship. His father’s body was in view. He could feel his nails digging into his palm as he clenched his fists, keeping his tears at bay. Kara gently touched his shoulder and pulled him close. _You’re one of the strongest people I know, Mon-El. You will get through this_ , she whispered to his ear as she rubbed his back. _And you’ll never be alone_.

In the next memory she was in front of her, smoothing his suit. It was the first time he’d put it on. She looked up, a smile playing in her eyes. _You’ve proven yourself to be a hero multiple times_ , she told him. _It was only fair you looked like one_.

_I believe in you, Mon-El. You should, too._

_You don’t need me in order to be a hero. You’re already one inside._

_You never stopped fighting for me. Thank you._

_I’m proud of you._

All those memories throughout the years, everything Kara ever told him, swirled around in his head. It came to a point after some time that he couldn’t distinguish one memory from another. Yet all of them had a common theme: Kara believed in him. She always believed he was strong enough to face anything, that no matter what he never gave up, and she was so proud of him for the man he became. He’d once told her that he didn’t know what he would be without her, and she answered confidently that he’d still find a way to become the man she saw in front of her. She believed in that man so much that she put all her faith and love in him. She believed he’d never let her down.

He hadn’t been that man. Not since he’d lost her. That man would never run from a challenge, he’d never abandon his work because it was too damn painful to do it. If Kara could see him now, she wouldn’t be proud of him.

He opened his eyes and wiped his tears away, stopping the stream of memories. Slowly he set his phone down and stood up to clean the ink off his hand. He’d deal with the floor and couch later. He felt numb, inside and out, almost hollowed out. Yet he still managed to return to the couch after his hand was clean. He grabbed his laptop again, entering the password, and then took his notebook with all the notes about the episode and opened an empty document.

And he began writing.

* * *

**_19:17_ **

Savanna liked his review. Actually, no. That wasn’t the right way to put it. She absolutely went crazy over it. _I knew I was right to assign Phoenix to you_ , she’d said in her email. _The way you described Melanie and compared her to Supergirl… If I hadn’t known better, I’d say you and Supergirl were pretty tight before she died_. He’d only managed to feel a flicker of pride before it died off, getting replaced by sorrow and agony.

_Pretty tight, you say?_ he couldn’t help thinking. _You have no idea_.

That was the last thing he thought about the subject. Afterwards he quickly got rid of any thoughts even remotely associated with Kara, and instead was trying to decide between two test screening invites from two different movies on the same day. Savanna would probably want him to choose the romance one, yet he wasn’t sure if his heart could handle it. The other was a science-fiction movie that sounded very appealing at that moment. He still hadn’t responded to any of the emails, though.

His fingers were hovering above the keyboard, getting close to writing a declining email for the romance movie, when his phone rang. The ringing style alerted him that it was from DEO. He quickly reached for his phone and answered it. “Yes?” He was already on his feet and walking to his and Kara’s bedroom as Winn started talking.

“Mon-El, hey! Look, we really didn’t want to call you today, since…well, you know, but we need your help.”

“Get to the point, Winn,” Mon-El said between his teeth, a bit too harshly, as he grabbed his superhero suit. He didn’t have time for Winn’s babbling.

“Right, yes, so. Well, you know the abandoned warehouse right outside the city, the one that once belonged to Cadmus?” The Daxamite frowned, searching his mind to find the image. It took him a couple of seconds.

“Yes?” he said as he put the phone on the speaker and changed into his suit with superspeed.

“Well, there’s been some big bang level energy coming from there for about five minutes now. Like, enough to burn away National City if released. We thought maybe you could check it out?” Mon-El nodded curtly as he grabbed his phone.

“I’m on it. Go to comms.” With that, he tucked his phone in his boot and put on his comms. And then he was out of the house.

It didn’t take him long to arrive at the said warehouse. He quickly flew around it to check if there was any threat outside before landing in front of the entrance, grabbing the handles of the door and ripping it open. The metal crumpled up like paper under his strength.

Light shone through the opening, blinding him for a moment as he stepped inside. Blinking, he adjusted his eyes to the sudden change in brightness, only to notice the huge circular device standing in front of him, right in the middle of the warehouse. It seemed like…like some sort of a portal machine. The linings were white, and right next to it was a globe that shone purple, as if it was charging the machine. Mon-El frowned and touched his comms.

“Winn, are you seeing this?” he asked his friend, making sure the camera inserted in the buttons of his cape was facing the device.

“Uh, yes,” Winn answered. “And I am not liking the look of it.”

“What is it?”

“Um, well, I… I have no idea.” Mon-El heard him furiously type something. “Best guess? A device to open some sort of a breach to another universe.” Mon-El frowned, shaking his head. _That’s a first. Well, except Music Meister of course._ He stepped forward, glancing around the room to see if anybody was around. He seemed to be alone.

“What do you need me to do with it? Should I…destroy it or something?”

“No!” Winn answered immediately. “That thing is using an incredible amount of energy. We have no idea what will happen if you destroy it.” He took a deep breath. “Are you alone?”

“Seems like it.”

“Good. Then I’m gonna be coming with a team of DEO agents. Don’t you dare touch it.” Mon-El heard Winn shuffling with some stuff, and then calling for J’onn. He sighed as he ran his fingers through his hair. It seemed like he would be doing some guard duty.

“Oh, how nice! You’ve found my lair.” A voice coming from behind him interrupted his thoughts. He whirled around, his hands shooting up to protect himself from the intruder. He came face to face with a man with an overcoat and a hat covering his face. His hands were tucked into his pockets as he looked forward with ease. Mon-El couldn’t see his smirk, yet he could feel it. “You don’t look as scary without that Kryptonian friend of yours. Supergirl, was it?”

Growling, Mon-El stepped forward. “Don’t you dare talk about her.” The intruder just laughed at his clenched teeth and fists.

“Offended, are we? Well, that’s a shame.” He shrugged as he walked to his left, as if trying to circle Mon-El. The Daxamite stepped in front of him.

“Stay where you are,” he threatened in his best superhero voice. It wasn’t that hard to be harsh when he felt emotionless and cold anyway.

The man almost seemed amused as he faced Mon-El.

“Trying to stop me, are you? Why would you want that?” Mon-El opened his mouth, but nothing came out at first. He had nothing to say, his mind was empty. He bit his lip as he tried to stop himself from freaking out and shook his head.

“You, the villain, are asking me that, the superhero?” he answered instead, trying to avoid making the conversation about himself. The man didn’t say anything for a while.

“Fair enough,” he shrugged then. “Not that you’ll succeed, but it’s cute when you try.” He opened his palm suddenly, and before Mon-El could do anything he was thrust back. He crashed into the warehouse’s wall.

He quickly recovered, facing the man, who was working on the circular device. He pushed himself from the wall and crashed into him, slamming him to the wall across. He was just about to wrap his hands to the man’s collar when he smiled and literally disappeared from his hands, appearing behind him. “You really think you can stop me?” he asked as he dodged one of Mon-El’s punches. The Daxamite tried to land another. He merely pushed his hand away and yanked him down to the ground with the grace of an assassin. “Without the help of your girlfriend, you’re nothing, _Valor_.” Mon-El stopped short as he looked up from the ground, his heart briefly stopping in his chest. “Or should I call Mon-El?” His breath hitched.

“How do you know my name?” he asked as he jumped to his feet, taking a fighting stance. The man laughed coldly.

“I know many things now. I know Supergirl is Kara Danvers. I know you’re Mon-El of Daxam. I know you were engaged before she died.” He smiled. “And I know this time, I won’t let you defeat me as I did all those years ago.”

Mon-El didn’t know what to say as he stared at the man. Every word that came out of his mouth, every word about Kara reminded him of the Kryptonian, and the empty space she left as a partner next to her. He missed her presence so badly when he was out in the field. He missed the safety he felt when she was with her, the pride and awe that filled his chest when she knocked down a bad guy, the love and joy of fighting alongside this beautiful woman that he loved so deeply. It was all gone now, and it was never coming back.

Nothing would fill the gap she left behind.

“I’m not letting you use that device,” Mon-El managed to say after a couple of seconds, gathering up his courage. He attempted to jump on the man again but he was thrust back and pinned down on the ground. The man walked up to him, his hand extended towards Mon-El. Suddenly, an excruciating pain filled the Daxamite’s mind. It was as if someone was ripping his skull open and squeezing his brain inside out. He held the sides of his head to ease the pain but it wasn’t working. His vision was blurring as he saw the man stand above him.

“I’ll be using _that device_ ,” he told Mon-El as he knelt down. Because the corners of his field of view went dark, the man was all he could see. “And someday, Mon-El, you’ll thank me for it. Trust me.” That was the last thing he said, and the last thing Mon-El heard, before he stood up and curled his fingers into a fist, and Mon-El passed out.

* * *

**_21:49_ **

Mon-El didn’t know how long he’d been staring at the wall in the med bay, his thoughts running wild. It could’ve been an hour or a minute. There was no one around, as every DEO agent was working to shut down the portal device; the device he’d failed to protect. From what he’d gathered, whoever the intruder was used the portal to go off to somewhere, though no one really knew where. There was no way to follow him.

He’d failed. Spectacularly, he’d failed. He couldn’t stop the man from using the device. He couldn’t even _shut_ it down. If Kara was there… She’d be able to take the man down all by herself and stop the device. She’d have succeeded. What was it that the man said? _Without the help of your girlfriend, you’re nothing_. He hadn’t wanted to believe the truth behind those words, but…but he couldn’t deny it. Without Kara, he had nothing. He was miserable. He couldn’t accomplish even a simple task, like cooking—he’d stopped counting the amount of stuff he’d burned—let alone continuing his job and writing reviews. He was _such a failure_.

Shutting his eyes with self-disgust and guilt, he shook his head. His hands were gripping the sides of the cot, and he was pretty sure there were finger-sized dents on where they were. He couldn’t care less about it.

He heard footsteps enter the room and lifted his head to see Winn and J’onn. The former had a smile on his face. “Good news!” he announced, spreading his arms. “We managed to shut down the portal-device-thingy without blowing up a huge National City shaped hole.” Mon-El pressed his lips together, not even bothering to be happy about it.

“Great,” he muttered as he pushed himself off the bed. “Then there’s nothing else for me to do here.” He walked past J’onn and Winn before he was stopped.

“Hey,” J’onn said softly. “You can’t leave until we’re sure what that guy did to you didn’t hurt you.”

“He didn’t,” Mon-El hissed between his teeth. His fists were clenched. He didn’t want to stay in the room for one more second, only to remember how he let that guy completely disable him with just a flick of his wrist.

“It won’t take long, Mon-El. Just until we make sure what he did to you didn’t cause permanent damage.” The Daxamite almost laughed at that as he turned around.

“And what if it did?” he asked with a shaky voice. “Would it really matter?” Both Winn and J’onn seemed taken aback with his words. Winn shook his head.

“What are you talking about? Of course it matters. You could… You could die, or worse, and—“

“Well, what if I die?” Mon-El shot back, his shoulders slumping. “It wouldn’t change anything. I’m… I’m not living anyway. My life as Mike Matthews feels like an empty shell. And as _Valor_ I’m just as useless.” The thought burned his chest as he swallowed hard and tried to get rid of the sensation.

“What about Mon-El?” Winn asked quietly. “Because Mike and Valor are just masks. Mon-El is who you are inside.”

“I don’t think…” Mon-El started, and then stopped to clear his throat. “I don’t think he exists anymore.” He took a deep breath. “No one would suffer from losing me.”

“That’s not true,” J’onn objected.

“Yeah. You’re… You’re a superhero. You go out and stop crimes and protect people every day,” Winn supplied. Mon-El snorted and shook his head.

“Those are petty crimes. Anyone with a bulletproof suit and a bit of training can do that.” _James could do it, if he was still here and not off somewhere else doing Rao knows what. He’d do a much better job than me_. Winn seemed to realize who he was talking about as he continued. “And this one attack that I’m _actually_ needed on, this one person with superpowers I’m supposed to stop, I fail. So tell me, Winn, what am I living for?” Winn was at a loss of words as he opened his mouth, producing no sound. He glanced desperately at J’onn.

“You live for the people that believe in you, Mon-El,” the Martian said softly, his eyes filling with pain. “Those who are still alive and those you have lost. We believe in you. Kara believed in you. That’s what you live for.”

“Then I failed at it!” Mon-El exploded, his voice rising. “If Kara was there, J’onn, she would’ve stopped that guy before he went into that portal, and she would’ve done a damn good job. She wouldn’t let him just knock her down. Without her…” His breath hitched at his throat as tears filled his eyes. “I can’t move on. I can’t… I can’t go on with my life without thinking about her every single minute. Everything reminds me of her. _Everything_. Yes, I do go to work, I still review TV shows and movies, I go out ‘superheroing’, but the only way I do those is if I detach myself from everything. If I forbid myself from feeling. That’s not… That’s not how life should be.” He wiped his tears away furiously, cursing himself for showing his weakness. “It’s been a year. I should’ve at least started moving on, and I can’t. I’ve failed everyone. I’ve failed _her_.” He ducked his chin and stared at the floor, trying to calm his heavy breathing and get rid of the knot of emotions in his throat. “I’m a failure.” His hands were clenching and unclenching at his sides, his nails digging into his palms every now and then.

“Mon-El—“ Winn started, but J’onn stopped him. He must’ve known that nothing, _nothing_ anyone could say would change his mind or make him feel better. Shaking his head, he took a deep breath and looked up slightly. “I’m going home. Don’t follow me.” With that, he whirled around and left, carrying the baggage of his words, and the truth behind them, with him.

* * *

**21 st of March, 2022**

**_07:32_ **

He didn’t want to wake up. He didn’t want to push the covers off of him, he didn’t want to get out of his bed, he didn’t want to look at his phone and see the date on the screen. He’d already barely slept the previous night after everything that had happened. He’d cried, and cried, and cried until he was too numb to cry, until he had no tears left, until his chest and throat physically hurt so much from crying that he had to stop. He dozed off shortly after that, falling into an uncomfortable slumber filled with nightmares he didn’t remember now, but knew the subjects of: _Kara_. Just as once the woman filled his dreams, both in sleep and in real life, she now filled his nightmares, reminding him that she was gone with each step.

He had to force the covers off his face as he opened his eyes. His vision was blurry because of unshed tears, his throat knotted. No matter how much he gulped, the knot insisted on staying.

He didn’t know how he found the courage to push himself off the bed without breaking down. He felt heavy, oh so heavy, and he… He had no idea how he would go through today. He didn’t know if he could survive it.

Standing up, he made his way to the kitchen, wanting so badly to have some alcohol. The only problem was that he didn’t keep them at home. He’d done it when Kara… The first couple of weeks after she was gone, and… And he found himself drinking his problems away all the time. He’d thrown all that alcohol out when he realized that.

He was beginning to doubt whether that was a good idea or not. Not that it really mattered. All he needed was to make his way to kitchen, get something to drink, and maybe go back to bed and lie there until the day was over so that when he woke up the next day, it would be as if 21st of March never existed. As if it wasn’t real.

He walked through the corridor into the kitchen, completely oblivious to his surroundings. If he’d looked, though…he probably would’ve noticed the photos missing from the countertops in the apartment. He would’ve noticed the absence of the familiar red blanket on the couch. He would’ve noticed the missing chain around his neck, with the familiar weight of a ring that once adorned his love’s finger, but now was nothing more than a hollow circle.

And even beyond all that, he would’ve, or should’ve, noticed that the house he’s woken up in isn’t the one he slept the previous night. He would’ve noticed that it was a completely different one, with nothing inside that indicated Kara Danvers ever stepped a foot in it.


	3. Nightmare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All I can say is... Prepare for angst. (And maybe have a tissue or two by your side. Just in case.)

**21 st of March, 2022**

**_07:45_ **

21st of March. The day that burned into Mon-El’s memory in the worst way possible, just like some of the moments with Kara had burned into his mind way back then. Their one-year anniversary. Kara celebrating what she called his “Earth birthday”. Their first ever vacation together. The day he proposed to her, and she said yes. They’d all been good memories once, bringing him joy and happiness when he remembered them. Now all of them were stained with sadness and grief, all because of another day he couldn’t, and would never, forget. 21st of March, 2021. The day he lost the love of his life, forever.

A whole year had passed since then. A whole year, 365 days, and many, many more hours spent without Kara. He never thought he’d actually live through it to see this day, but now it had arrived, and Mon-El didn’t know what to do or how to feel. Emotions clogged his throat as he shook his head. _It wouldn’t be exactly a year_ , he tried thinking _, she died after 9 p.m_. It only worsened the knot lodged in his throat. Because at the end, the date was 21 st of March, and the number plastered on his phone on the day of her death once again was there. There would be mourning ceremonies, he knew, all over National City for Supergirl, all those citizens reminiscing the women they never really knew except her cape. And he would be home mourning Kara Zor-El, the Kryptonian he fell in love with when he first arrived on earth, the reporter who never let anyone stop her from getting what she wanted, the woman who stood by her beliefs no matter what, the strong and kind superhero who willingly risked, and at the end sacrificed, her life so that others would live safely. While everyone was mourning the mask, he would be mourning the person behind that mask, the person he loved with all his heart and planned a future with, and somehow it hurt worse than he could imagine.

He bit down on his lip harshly to keep the tears at bay, blinking several times. Walking inside the kitchen, he reached absentmindedly, feeling rather than seeing, to the place where his and Kara’s refrigerator was supposed to be. Instead, his hand slammed onto something else. A couple of glass bottles from the sound of them.

Instinct took over as he snapped his head up, his eyes catching the falling bottle of oil. His hand shot forward without thinking, his fingers wrapping around the neck of the bottle to keep it from falling to the floor and spilling oil everywhere. That wasn’t easy to clean up, Mon-El knew from experience.

After the risk of the bottle falling went away, Mon-El froze in the middle of the kitchen, looking at the bottle in his hands. His heart stuttered in his chest as he turned it around, looking at the label. It was a brand he didn’t recognize, a brand he never bought. His frown deepened as he looked up.

What he was literally took his breath away, in the worst way possible. Not because the room was a mess, or he miscalculated the distance between the bedroom and kitchen, but because… Because he was standing in the middle of a kitchen, in the middle of a _room_ , he didn’t recognize. The counter in front of him, the kitchen counter, it was made out of a shiny black stone, instead of Kara’s wooden one. It was also longer, if not wider. The stove wasn’t in its usual place, on the far left side, but instead behind Mon-El on the kitchen island. The wall above the counter didn’t have the familiar white cupboards Mon-El was used to, it was empty and designed to look like grey bricks. There were only two glass shelves. The cupboards lined underneath the kitchen counter, made of light brown wood. The bottles that he knocked over that were where his light blue refrigerator was supposed to be was sitting next to a black and larger refrigerator.

Mon-El spun around, barely putting the bottle in his hand down, and turned to the living room. His breath was hitched in his throat as he took a tentative step forward, shaking his head. He wasn’t looking at the kitchen table, white lights hanging from the ceiling, or the window that he—and Kara before she was gone—used so often to leave and come back to the house. Instead, he was looking at a much smaller living room. There was a coffee table in the middle and a light grey couch right next to it. A brown armchair was in front of him. He had to sidestep it to enter the living room and looked up. Lights… They weren’t hanging, they were mounted to the ceiling. His eyes turned to the window and the rays of light slipping from the crack between gray curtains, illuminating dark grey and white walls. There was no blue couch, no white table in front of it, no armchair across, none of Kara’s way too many lamps, or her TV stand with movies lining inside. Yes, there was a TV right across the couch, but just like the lamps it was also mounted to the wall, and it was relatively bigger than what he had in his house.

This wasn’t his house. He’d woken up in a _stranger’s_ house.

He stumbled back, almost crashing into the kitchen island. Thoughts flooded into his mind as to where he could be. What had happened the previous night? He’d fought an alien. An alien that knocked him out by…by doing something to his brain. He thought he was fine, but… Was he hallucinating? Was this what it was? Was he dreaming or something? Or did someone kidnap him while he was sleeping and now he was in their house?

Fear gripped his heart as he held onto the island, willing himself to calm his heart. Freaking out wouldn’t help him right now. He needed to find out what was going on here. There wasn’t anyone in the kitchen or living room of the studio apartment, and he didn’t remember seeing anyone in the bedroom either, yet he wasn’t in the right mind when he woke up. With quick but quiet steps he turned and walked to the bedroom, his hands outstretched in front of him to protect himself if someone jumped on him. He also kept his ears open for any sounds, yet there was none.

There were two doors in the room. One that seemed like a closet, and the other that Mon-El assumed opened into a bathroom. He first opted to open the bathroom door since it made more sense, if he was kidnapped, for the kidnapper to be in the bathroom rather than hiding in a closet. If this wasn’t some sick ploy, of course. The Daxamite wouldn’t be surprised by that.

He walked slowly to the door, not making any sound, before he wrapped his fingers around the handle and yanked it open in one move. His hand shot up to open the lights as he focused inside, waiting to see something, but…

The bathroom was empty. There was no one in sight, nowhere anyone could hide and Mon-El wouldn’t see. His shoulders slumped both with relief and wary. If the bathroom was empty, the only place left in the house was the closet. The situation started looking more and more like a hallucination than a kidnapping. And it was bad, since kidnapping Mon-El could handle, but he had no idea as to how to escape a hallucination. Fortunately Kara and he never met anyone, other than Music Meister—and that one time Kara was put under the effects of something called Black Mercy—that could put them under any sort of a dream, and in those times it was only Kara under the hallucination, not him. He didn’t even know what he was supposed to do.

 _Can I be under the effect of Black Mercy? Is this it?_ But Mon-El clearly remembered Kara saying Black Mercy showed people their deepest desires, and the Daxamite was pretty sure what he would see under its effects. Yet she wasn’t anywhere to be seen. In fact, he wasn’t even in their house, so either Black Mercy was defective or this was something else.

He opened the closet door slower than the bathroom door. It was smaller than he and Kara’s closet, as it was probably designed for only one person, and again there was no one in sight. He didn’t think anyone could fit there anyway, if they didn’t squeeze into a very uncomfortable position. The occupant of the apartment didn’t have many clothes. He quickly shuffled through them, pushing solid colored t-shirts and sweaters aside to make sure no one was really in there. He even hit the back of the closet since in most TV shows and movies that was where people put a secret door or safe or something like that.

There was nothing. He almost felt slightly disappointed as he pulled back before his eyes caught a briefcase. A very, _very_ familiar looking briefcase. He froze with the sight of the worn edges and unlocked clasps, having a hard time processing it was truly there. There was no reason for it to be there.

He knelt down and reached for the suitcase with shaky fingers. He knew if he opened it and inside found what he suspected… There was no going back. It would prove that this wasn’t real life, that it was some sort of a messed up hallucination instead of someone kidnapping him.

Taking a deep breath, he lifted the lid slowly. His heart stopped when he came face to face with the familiar fabric. _No_. He reached for it, taking the red material out and standing up. It hung from his fingers as he stared at it, the knot in his throat growing by each passing second. No matter how much he gulped he couldn’t get rid of it.

It was his suit. His Valor suit. The red shirt and pants, blue belt and cape, completed with blue boots that were still in the suitcase. It was the same suit he wore every day when he went out to protect National City. It was the same suit Kara gave him all those years ago with a huge grin plastered on her face. It was the same suit that fueled his self-confidence, making him believe that despite his past, he could change and be a hero and it would matter. One day he could be the man Kara saw in him and maybe, just maybe, he’d be worthy of her love. The suit was once a symbol of hope for him, but then it quickly became no more than an obligation after the only reason for his hope was gone.

Well, it wasn’t exactly _that_ suit, though. His suit had a blue House of El symbol on the left side of his chest. This one didn’t have that. It was just plain red, which was another indication that something was very, _very_ wrong with wherever the hell he was.

Before he could truly think about what was going on, though, his phone started ringing, distracting him. It was on the bedside table. He reached for it and held it up to see who it was. Alex.

Well, at least Alex existed in whatever the hell this world was. Maybe she knew what was going on. Maybe she was trapped in this…this alternate reality as well. He couldn’t find a better word for it.

He quickly answered the phone and stood up. “Alex, thank Rao,” he gasped, running his fingers through his hair. He could feel the woman’s confusion over the phone.

“Wow, thank Rao? And here I was expecting you to yell at me _yet again_ for waking you up so early.” She sounded chirpy with a smile in her voice, enough to make Mon-El stop and frown. No, it didn’t make any sense. Alex… She couldn’t be that chirpy. Not on the day… Not on the day she’d lost her sister.

Gulping, he shook his head. “Alex, I need you to listen to me carefully,” he said as calmly as possible, pacing around the room. “I think there’s something really, really wrong going on here.”

“Yeah,” Alex answered without missing a beat. “You actually managed to wake up before twelve. I’m impressed.” Mon-El stopped with her nonchalant words, shaking his head. This wasn’t possible. None of this… It didn’t make any sense. He shouldn’t be in that house. His suit shouldn’t be there. And there should be… There should be House of El symbol engraved on it. And the day… It was Kara’s death anniversary. _First_ death anniversary. He knew how much that weighed on Alex, so much so that she hadn’t made an appearance in DEO for a week now. And what, she was now all happy and unburdened? It couldn’t be real.

“This doesn’t make any sense,” he whispered to no one in particular, shaking his head. “I don’t…”

“Well, nothing makes sense when it comes to you Mon-El, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re National City’s hero and there’s a hostage situation going on that requires your help.”

“What?” he asked, taken aback by her request. “Alex, I can’t… I can’t go out there today.” _I told that to them. They know. They know how much it kills me_. It was one thing to be out there without Kara on a regular day—and even that ripped open Mon-El’s chest each damn time—and another doing it… Doing it on the day he lost her to an alien invasion. To… To protecting National City. It would be too much.

“Why the hell not? Is there something special today?” Mon-El blinked several times with Alex’s almost worried answer. _It’s impossible_ , he thought again, yet it wasn’t helping. “Mon-El, you’re starting to freak me out. Is everything okay?”

“I… I don’t know,” he mumbled, shaking his head again. He didn’t have a good enough answer for her question. He didn’t even _know_ what okay was anymore. He didn’t have that for a long time.

“Oooookay. Look, I’d like to talk all about what happened to you last night that made you go from all smiles and laughs to… _this_ , but right now there’re eight people out there that _really_ need your help. One of them is only a child, Mon-El. So get your head out of your ass and go there, and then we can have that talk with maybe a glass of alcohol. Or five. Deal?” Mon-El opened his mouth to object, to tell her that he was allowed to have a day off from everything on a day like this, but he stopped. Could he really say no? Could he say he wouldn’t do it and leave those eight people alone when they needed him the most? Kara would never do that. She’d fight through every bit of pain and grief to help those people. Even if she was dying inside, even if all she wanted to do was curl up in a ball and cry, she’d get up and she’d fight. _Protect citizens above all else_ , she used to say. It was one of their hero codes. And right now, that was exactly what he was supposed to do. Push back his tears, his shattered heart and hollow chest, and step up to save those eight people. And then… And then he’d deal with everything. Maybe it would turn out that this wasn’t even real, that those eight people didn’t exist, yet he couldn’t take that risk without being 100% sure.

 _Protect citizens above all else_. He could figure everything out later.

Taking a deep breath, he turned to his Valor suit and grabbed it, putting it on with superspeed. “I’m on my way. Tell me where it is,” he told Alex, and after learning the location, he was out the window, not wasting any more time.

* * *

**_08:18_ **

He almost didn’t see it. He wasn’t really paying attention to the things around him except the robbers in the bank. His focus was on stopping them and probably tying them up before they could hurt any of the hostages, and then to get the hostages out of the bank. The police were already outside by the time he was finished, so he sent the hostages out, and handed the robbers to the police officers.

He’d only noticed the newspapers scattered around the bank then. The robbers must’ve shot their way in, and some of those shots must’ve hit the counter standing in the waiting area. He and Kara had made it a habit a couple of years ago to help clean the mess up after stopping a crime, especially if it required heavy lifting. So despite Mon-El’s need to go find Alex and question her about what the hell was going on in this weird alternate reality, he couldn’t get rid of something that was so ingrained in him. He could at least set the counters and chairs in place and gather together the papers.

And he also wasn’t sure if he really wanted to hear the answer Alex would give him. He didn’t know what was going on in here, but he knew one thing: There was something very wrong. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to face how wrong things were.

So that was what he did: tidying up the bank. It took him no more than five minutes. Finally, as he was taking the newspapers and magazines from the floor, stacking them up, a familiar one caught his attention. _CatCo_. His heart constricted with the name as he shut his eyes, counting to five to compose himself and not fall apart in the middle of a mission. _Just hold on for a couple of minutes more_ , he told himself. _Just a couple of minutes more_. Opening his eyes, he was getting ready to drop the magazines on the counter. That was when he saw it, right there, in front of him, on the first page. On the byline. Something he thought he’d never see again. A name that was engraved in his soul, the name that once filled him with joy but now brought nothing but pain.

 _Kara Danvers_.

His steps halted the moment he saw the name, shock rippling through his body. He discarded the rest of the magazines aside, not even looking at where he put them, as he grabbed the CatCo one and smoothed the cover. His heart had immediately tripled its beat.

How was her name on the magazine? On the… On the byline? How could she have written an article? She was… She was dead. As hard as it was to admit for Mon-El, that was the truth. Dead people didn’t write articles. They didn’t publish anything. They were gone, forever, with no chance of returning. It was _final_. There was no fixing things, no taking it back, no…no second chances. Once somebody was dead, they were _dead_. They didn’t come back.

 _There is no way_ …

Mon-El blinked several times, closed his eyes and opened them after a count of three, turned his eyes away from the magazine and then looked back at it, and even traced Kara’s name with his fingers several times, yet it didn’t disappear. It was still staring at his face. _By Kara Danvers_.

What was the chance of another Kara Danvers getting employed at CatCo one year after _his_ Kara’s death and becoming a reporter? He didn’t know, but he was about to find out.

 _Maybe this_ is _Black Mercy after all_.

Rolling the magazine in his hand, Mon-El stomped out and didn’t lose time as he took off. He could barely feel the wind on his face or his cape rippling behind him. He could barely see the buildings below or the sun rising in the sky right in front of him. He couldn’t even hear the city that was waking up around him, filled with noises of traffic and honks of cars and laughs of people. The only thing he could truly sense was his pounding heart and blood rushing through his body, and the newspaper in his hand that felt way too heavy for a piece of paper.

He landed on the DEO terrace with a thump, even stumbling forward as he couldn’t adjust his landing. Not that it really mattered. Walking inside, he ignored two agents that greeted him and instead focused on finding Alex.

At least nothing had changed inside DEO. It would be a mess trying to find his way like he had time for it.

He spotted the agent standing by the computers, looking at something on her tablet. “Alex!” he called for her, his voice quivering with the huge ball lodged in his throat. Alex looked up from her tablet and turned around, a smile pulling her lips at the sight of him.

“Hey, Valor,” she began as she put the device in her hand aside. “You know, that was a very good save for 8 in the morning.” Mon-El didn’t even hear her words as the woman’s smile disappeared, leaving its place to a concerned frown. “You look—“

“Did you see this?” he cut her words, lifting the newspaper. It took him a couple of tries to unfold it properly because of his shaking fingers. He held it up for her to see the name on the byline.

Alex looked more confused than ever as she crossed her arms, her eyes flickering from the page to Mon-El’s face, and then back to the page. “That’s a CatCo newspaper,” she said slowly, spelling each word. Her eyes narrowed. “Is there something I’m supposed to be looking at?”

“Th-the byline,” Mon-El stuttered. “Look at the byline.” His voice trailed off as he struggled to voice the words. “It’s _her_.” He couldn’t even say her name out loud.

“You mean Kara?” Alex asked, lifting her brow. “Yeah, she’d mentioned her article made the first page. But it’s not like it’s the first time. She’s good with chasing big stories and digging up hidden truths.” She was speaking so nonchalantly as she talked about her sister, with eyes that shone with pride and a loving smile. Mon-El was speechless as he watched her. She was acting like… Alex was acting like Kara was still there. Like she never died, like they…they never lost her, like their hearts weren’t ripped off of their chest and left a huge hole behind. Her words, her actions… All of it suggested that Kara was alive and it…it wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true. The name on the byline must be a lie. Alex… She must be under the effect of something, an alien maybe, that made her believe Kara was alive. That had to be it. He couldn’t believe…

He couldn’t believe Kara was alive _again_. It’d happened too many times. He’d wake up some days, reaching for Kara’s side of the bed with a small smile on his face, expecting to find her waist, only to find the bed empty. He’d stop a criminal, or save someone’s life, and he’d lift his head to see Kara’s loving and proud eyes, only to find himself looking at emptiness. He’d dream about her, over and over again, dream that she was alive, only to realize it was nothing more than that: a dream. Or a nightmare even. Each time it happened it hurt more than the last, and he was already hurting too much. Believing she was alive now would only be his doom.

Mon-El shook his head helplessly, taking a staggered step back. “Alex, he-her name can’t be there. She can’t be… She can’t be writing an article. She’s _gone_.” Alex looked taken aback with his words. She uncrossed her arms.

“Mon-El, what are you talking about?”

 _“Kara is dead!”_ Mon-El exploded, all of the emotions he’d bottled up inside since he woke up coming out. Despair, grief, anger, pain, loss, hopelessness… They all fueled his words as he continued, his voice quivering. “She’s _dead_. This… This article? It’s a game. It’s a-a ploy to make us believe we got her back, but it isn’t true. She’s not coming back, Alex. No matter—No matter how much we want her to, no matter how much we miss her, _she’s not coming back_.” He was breathing heavily by the time he finished his words. Alex’s eyes were wide, a bit out of fear and a bit out of confusion. His shoulders slumped as he turned his eyes away. “And I miss her,” he whispered. “Every single day I miss her, but it doesn’t change anything. It _never_ does.” He spoke with such a low voice that he wasn’t even sure Alex heard him.

Alex lifted her hands in defense and took a step back. “Okay, Mon-El, you’re really starting to freak me out. You think Kara is _dead_?” She laughed, as if the notion was ridiculous. “Because I can assure you, she’s pretty much alive. I _just_ saw her this morning.”

“No!” Mon-El objected, closing the distance between him and the agent and clasped her shoulders. He remembered at the last second not to put too much pressure. “Alex, this isn’t real. This… Kara is…” He couldn’t continue as tears welled up in his eyes. He unsuccessfully tried to blink them away, forcing out the words, but his voice was gone. Nothing could pass through the knot in his throat.

“I’m calling J’onn,” Alex said as she brushed off his hands, eyeing him. Her hand reached for her phone in her back pocket. “Clearly someone has gotten in your head. An alien maybe, I don’t know, but you’re _not_ yourself.” Mon-El shook his head, again and again, as he stepped back. Tears had started sliding down his cheeks. He was chanting _she’s not alive, she’s not alive, she’s not alive_ repeatedly in his mind to not wall into…whatever the hell this hallucination is, yet each word hurt more than the last.

“No. No, no, no. This isn’t real.” He took his head in his hands. “I’m… I’m hallucinating. Or… Or in a dream world. Or…whatever nightmare this is. You… Maybe you aren’t real either.” Alex opened his mouth, but before she could say anything J’onn’s voice came from the phone.

“J’onn, I need your help,” Alex told the Martian, worry dripping from his face. “I think an alien scrambled with Mon-El’s brain. He’s acting all weird.”

“Nobody scrambled with my brain!” he yelled, pulling too much attention to him. Now everyone was listening to their conversation. Not that he could care. Over his pounding heart, sweaty palms, and trembling hands he couldn’t focus anything else but Alex. “O-Or if they did, it’s not… It’s not because I think Kara’s dead. It’s because I’m in this… _dream_ that she’s alive.” He closed his eyes. “I just need to wake up _. I just need to wake up_.”

He counted to three before opening his eyes, hoping to find himself back at his house in his bed, and for this to be just a nightmare. Yet nothing happened. He was still in the DEO. He was still in his Valor suit. He was still standing in front of Alex, the woman looking at her with wide eyes.

Tears overwhelmed him as he shook his head again. He couldn’t take this. It would already hurt too much on a regular day, seeing her name on the byline and thinking she was alive, but today? On the day he’d lost her forever? It would crush him, kill him, hollow him out completely. If he ever let go, if he ever let himself believe that any of this could be real, that she could be alive… It would be his end. There was no coming back from that. He’d already lost her once, and that took away every bit of happiness he’d managed to find on earth. Losing her all over again would take away his sanity, his self, if that still existed underneath all the grief and pain. He wouldn’t survive it.

He couldn’t breathe. The walls of DEO were closing in on him, the ceiling threatening to smother him. There wasn’t enough air in the room, or not enough air was getting into his lungs. He had to get out of there. He was breaking down, and he had to get out of there. Get away and calm down, at least enough to pull his head together and end this hallucination once and for all. He had to have a clear head to do that, and it wasn’t going to happen here. Not where everyone pretended like Kara didn’t die and she was still alive. As hard as it was to do it, he had to suck it up and put everything aside. That was the only way he’d survive this.

So he whirled around, shutting his ears to Alex’s yelling, calling for him and demanding him to come back. He walked out the terrace, and without hesitation flew far away from DEO.

* * *

**_08:47_ **

Mon-El squeezed the steering wheel of his car so tightly that there was a good chance, with a little bit more force, it would break or turn to dust under his grip. His eyes were trained on CatCo’s entrance from his spot in the parking lot, waiting for…for _her_. He knew it was ridiculous, he knew he had to focus on getting out of here instead of focusing on a dream that wasn’t even real, yet he couldn’t stop himself from coming here. The drive was already excruciating, so _slow_ compared to what he’d be able to do if he just _flew_. But after what he saw in his house… He didn’t think barging into CatCo in his Valor suit would’ve been a really good idea.

After he left DEO, Mon-El really didn’t know where he wanted to go. All he knew was he needed to get out, to breathe, to ease the weight off of his shoulders. He hadn’t really paid attention to his surroundings until a familiar building caught his eyes. He wasn’t even surprised to see where he’d come. He and Kara’s house.

 _Of course_ that would be where his mind would take him. Where else? The place used to be his safe haven, his… _home_. It didn’t feel much like that after Kara’s loss, and only then he realized it was the Kryptonian that was his home and not the house, but there were so many memories spent there for it to not be a reminder of…of the happiness and love he had. Even though it hurt to constantly see Kara in every corner of the house knowing she was never coming back, a piece of her—of _them_ —lived in that house. It’d been their home for as long as they had a relationship. He couldn’t just throw something away that carried Kara’s soul inside. That was why he hadn’t left the house, hadn’t thought about moving away even when things got harder than he could imagine. Leaving that house would be like…like discarding Kara, as if she was nothing, as if she’d meant nothing to him. Maybe it was ridiculous to think like that, and maybe nobody would blame him if it became too much, yet he’d never forgive himself if he did something like that. Even though Kara was gone, she still was a part of him—a _vital_ part of him—and he’d do everything to honor her memory.

When he saw the place in front of him, he thought the best he could do at the moment was go in, sit on the couch and compose himself, getting ahold of his feelings and not letting them control him. Kara’s name on the byline… It didn’t mean anything. It couldn’t mean anything. Kara possibly being somewhere in National City… _No_. He wouldn’t go look for her. He would… He would find a way to get out of…whatever the hell this alternate reality was without letting himself get sucked up in it. Seeing would only hurt more when he woke up.

At least that had been his plan until he realized that none of the windows of the house was open. And he didn’t have the keys with him since… Well, since he didn’t get anything as he left the other apartment in the morning. What was more confusing was that he was almost sure he left one of the windows open the previous night before he slept. He… He wasn’t in a place to bother with closing the window he opened to go fight the alien.

He’d frowned and gotten closer to the house to get a good look inside. What he saw, though… It wasn’t what he expected.

The house was completely different. It wasn’t the one that he remembered, the one he spent years in with Kara. It wasn’t the apartment Kara had before he moved in and they decided to change some of the furniture. It wasn’t the apartment with the changed furniture. It had different furniture. Kara’s kitchen table was gone, replaced with a glass, round table. There was a vase sitting on top of it with sunflowers bursting out. The kitchen was pretty much the same except the all too familiar baby blue refrigerator; it was now white and considerably larger. The overabundance of lights were gone and replaced with one hanging light for the kitchen and another for the living room. And the couch… The couch Kara had loved so much that she bought a whole furniture set around it, was _gone_. It was replaced with a beige one and a matching brown armchair across from it.

The knot in Mon-El’s heart has doubled its size as he took the scene in. _Did I lose this too?_ he couldn’t help thinking. _After losing her, losing myself, and my reality, did I lose this last piece too?_ His first thought was that maybe in this reality this house was never owned by Kara, and maybe that was why it was so different. Until his eyes caught the photos in the room. Photos of Kara by herself, with Alex, with the Danvers family, with Winn, with Lena, with others he didn’t recognize. Photos of her smiling, laughing, dancing, swimming, and there was even one where she had an award in her hand. There was Kara’s whole life in them, from the moment she landed on Earth to what seemed like _now_.

Not one of those photos included him. As if for her he didn’t exist, as if she didn’t know who he was.

He didn’t know what to do then. He couldn’t go back to the DEO, not after what happened, though he was pretty sure Alex and J’onn were already looking for him. He couldn’t enter Kara’s house without breaking the windows. He couldn’t…

He could go to CatCo. That was where Kara would be around this time, at least if she really was alive. He could go there and see her and…and do what? Hug her? Tell her how much he’d missed her, how every day that passed since she died was emptier than the last, only to lose her again at the end? Because he would lose her at the end. Once he found a way out of this alternate reality, or once his friends back in the real world saved him she’d be gone. Could he handle it?

He knew the answer was no.

Instead he opted to go to the house he woke up in. That seemed to be where he was living. And this time he was pretty sure he’d left the window open.

He didn’t know exactly when his resolve diminished and he decided to go to CatCo. Maybe the diminishing had started the moment he’d arrived to the house. Maybe it was when he’d seen photos all around, photos of him with Alex and J’onn and a couple of familiar faces from DEO, but none of Kara or Winn or James. Or maybe it was when he entered his bedroom and realized that he didn’t care about what would happen next. He wanted to see Kara so badly. Even if it was just for a moment it would be worth it. It’d been so long, too long since he last held her in his arms, and that had been when she was dying. He wanted to embrace her, feel her alive skin under her arms, hear her heart beat with life. So he tore off the Valor suit off of him, put on a blue plaid shirt and jeans, put on his glasses and left for DEO. At least in this messed up reality he had a car. It would be really weird if he flew to DEO and landed right in front of the building. Even though he knew the traffic would be excruciating.

How long had he been waiting since he arrived? Three minutes? Thirty minutes? Longer? He had no idea. All he knew was that…that he needed to see it for himself.

Another car entered the parking lot. His eyes watched the car just as he’d done to the others, half out of fake boredom and half trying to distract himself from what was ahead. He wondered if he would recognize the person that would exit the car; the last two were unfamiliar to him.

As he was watching, the driver fumbled with the lock, trying to open the door. He could only see a silhouette of a woman as the windows were tainted. He straightened up a bit, resting his elbow on his car’s open window, his eyes not leaving the car. The door finally opened after a couple of seconds, and a blonde head appeared above it.

Mon-El froze as he saw the top of woman’s head. He would recognize it in every universe, every timeline, every altered reality. He would recognize it in a room full of people, or from miles away. There was no way those golden curls belonged to anyone but one person.

The woman got off the car and before shutting the door, grabbed her bag from inside. Her curls were dancing around her head and falling over her shoulders like a waterfall, beautiful not because it was perfect but because it was refreshing. She turned around after locking the door, her eyes briefly passing over Mon-El, yet he didn’t fail to catch the blueness of them, two comets shining in darkness.

It was her. _It was her_. After a year of seeing her only in photos of videos, after a year of having only those to remember her by, she was now here, flesh and blood and… _alive_. Mon-El couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, couldn’t do anything other than follow the woman with his eyes. She was looking at her bag, trying to dig up something from inside. Her steps echoed in the parking lot, her high-heeled shoes clicking with every step. In a couple of seconds she lifted her face with victory, revealing a phone.

And maybe it was the way she smiled, or maybe it was the happiness her eyes shone with, but Mon-El finally managed to snap out of his stupor. Even then only one word left his mouth over his thrumming heart and rushing blood, over the buzzing in his ears and the twisting in his stomach. Her name, whispered as if it was a prayer:

_“Kara.”_


	4. Gone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since it's 1 a.m. in Turkey... This _does_ count as Monday, right? 
> 
> Also, I know this chapter sound happy and fluffy in the beginning, I'd still keep a box of tissues with me. Just in case. In fact, whenever you read this fic definitely keep some tissues by your side. Just a friendly suggestion.

**21 st of March, 2021**

**_12:53_ **

The potstickers smelled so _good_ , especially in the closed confinements of the CatCo elevator. It was at least enough to make Mon-El want to dig into the bag and steal one. He hadn’t had anything to eat since morning, watching a TV show he was supposed to review for the next day when he wasn’t even caught up with it, and he kind of forgot to get something. Despite the full breakfast he had with Kara—including hash brown, bacon, and his poached eggs that Kara were absolutely in love with—he was _hungry_.

But of course, if he took even one of the potstickers Kara would definitely notice, and she didn’t like people stealing her food. Mon-El knew the Kryptonian loved him, but there was also no doubt that she loved food more than anything in the world.

Fortunately, it didn’t take too long for elevators to arrive at her floor. Mon-El adjusted his glasses and exited with a smile on his face, greeting a couple of people that were now familiar with him bringing lunch to Kara. He even saw Eve, who was struggling with printing something for her boss, James Olsen, when she spotted him. A smile spread on her face.

“Hey, Mike!” she called for him, noticing the bag. “Are you bringing food for Kara again?” The Daxamite shrugged, smiling back.

“Well, you know how Kara is with food. Besides, she told me she would be stuck inside writing an article the whole day, so I thought why not stop by?” Eve sighed as she gathered up her papers, walking with Mon-El to Kara’s office.

“Ugh, Kara is so lucky. I would kill to have a man like you that brings me food instead of telling me maybe I should stop eating too much and consider losing a few pounds.” There was bite in her voice as she tightened her grip on the papers. Mon-El frowned.

“Wait, is that what your boyfriend told you?” he couldn’t help asking. Eve nodded.

“Yep. Just last week. So _of course_ I dumped his ass.” She flashed him a proud grin. “And then went home to eat two cups of ice cream.” Mon-El chuckled at her expression.

“Well, I’m glad you got rid of that bastard.” He smiled. “Maybe I’ll bring you a ‘congratulations’ cupcake next time.” Eve stopped in front of James’s office and shook her head.

“As I said, I’d kill to have a man like you.” This time, Eve joined his laugh before she shook her head. “Anyway, I need to give these to Mr. Olsen before _he_ kills _me_. So, see you around then?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he waved to the woman as she opened James’s office’s door. “I’ll bring the cupcake next time.” With that, he turned around and walked to Kara’s office, a grin plastered on his face. He didn’t even bother to knock—one thing Kara always jokingly complained about—as he pushed the door open.

“Hey, babe.” Kara jumped on her seat, the fingers that were flying on the keyboard stopping as she looked up. Mon-El’s smile widened with her flustered expression. Her hair she’d so neatly tied in a braid in the morning seemed to be pulled a couple of times, golden strands escaping from it. The glasses on her nose had slid down, as if she didn’t bother to push them up, and she looked like she really spent the day inside, in front of a computer, writing an article.

Shortly, she looked stunning. Of course Mon-El liked it when she dressed up, for example when they had a special night out, but Kara was most beautiful like this, when she wasn’t trying to impress anyone and only being herself. She didn’t need any makeup or anything else to be beautiful.

“Mo—Mike!” she almost shrieked, her eyes narrowing in on him. Mon-El shut the door and faced Kara, hiding the package of potstickers behind him. They Kryptonian crossed her arms. “How many times do I have to tell you to knock before you enter?” One side of Mon-El’s lips tipped up as he stepped forward.

“I don’t know. I think that could actually be the hundredth time.”

“More like the thousandth,” Kara huffed, rolling her eyes. She pulled her chair forward and rested her elbows on the desk. “If you think I’m gonna let you off easy again…” Her words were cut when Mon-El brought the package forward, lifting it up in the air. He smiled sheepishly.

“Maybe some potstickers would get you to reconsider?” he suggested. Kara stopped, her mouth open mid-sentence, as she eyed the package. She closed her mouth slowly and clenched her teeth. Mon-El could see her struggle, trying to decide whether she should give in and take the potstickers or continue being angry at Mon-El. In the end, he knew what would win.

“Bring those here,” she said with an ordering voice. “Is that the largest package?”

“Yep. And I haven’t taken anything from inside.” He put his hand on his chest. “I swear it on my life.” Kara glanced at him through her lashes, her anger melting into first a resigned expression and then a loving smile as she shook her head. She pulled the package close.

“Mon-El of Daxam, you are so sneaky.”

“Yeah?” Mon-El whispered as he leaned forward over the table, placing a small kiss on Kara’s lips. She didn’t resist, instead giggled into the kiss.

“Yes!” she complained, almost tearing the package. Mon-El sat across from her. “You know me too well. I can’t even stay angry at you.” He chuckled at his words as he shrugged almost nonchalantly.

“I’m just trying to make my fiancée happy.” He looked at her hand, adorned with a diamond ring, and a happiness bubble filled his chest. Even though they’ve been engaged for seven months, seeing her ring always managed to put a smile on his face. It reminded him that they were together, that they’d be together for the rest of their lives. It reminded him that Kara wanted a future with him just as much as he wanted a future with her. It reminded him that all the difficult times they’d been through, all the problems they’ve overcome and hardships they’d experienced didn’t succeed in separating them. A whole, happy life lay out in front of them that they’d spent with each other, and Mon-El couldn’t ask for anything else. Finally he’d had everything he wanted.

“That you do,” she said before she stuffed a potsticker in her mouth. Mon-El spoke as he waited for her to finish it.

“So how is your article coming up?” he asked, resting his arm on the table. Kara’s face fell as she sighed and shook her head.

“Slow,” she admitted, finishing her bite. “I have everything I need to write it, but I just can’t figure out a way to put them together. It feels…disconnected.” The Kryptonian’s unrest was visible on her case as she dug another potsticker from the package. “And Snapper wants me to get it done by tomorrow.” She pouted as she stared at her food as if it could give her the answer she was looking for. Mon-El reached forward and held her hand as an encouragement.

“You’ll get it done. You somehow always find a way.” He flashed her a smile. “And if you feel so stuck, there’s a TV and movie critic sitting across from you, who will be happy to help.” Kara returned his smile with a grateful one of hers as she squeezed his hand back.

“I know,” she said without a hint of doubt in her voice. She extended the package to Mon-El so that he could get a potsticker for himself. “But didn’t you have a review to write yourself? You said this morning you had to binge-watch five episodes because you weren’t caught up. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I had,” the Daxamite confessed, “but I watched them all. It’s a good thing you can adjust the speed of the episodes to your liking. Comes really handy when I can understand a show with its speed tripled.” Kara scowled at his words and pulled the dumplings from under his hand before he could get another.

“Mon-El, I told you that changing the speed is a crime against watching TV!” she argued. “That violates the whole…air of a TV show. If you’re gonna watch it, you have to commit your one hour to it. You can’t just sneak your way past that with…with your super speed.” She gave him a threatening glance, and never broke her stare as she took another potsticker. Mon-El smiled inside at her protectiveness and enthusiasm about the “proper” way of watching TV. He shook his head.

“You watched that new crime show with doubled speed last week,” he countered her, arching his brow. She shot him a glare.

“Because I only had half an hour!” she said defensively. “And the show is 50 minutes. What was I supposed to do, stop it in the middle? That’s even a bigger crime than increasing the speed.” This time, Mon-El couldn’t help laughing at her conviction. “Don’t laugh,” Kara scolded him. “I was being serious.” Yet there was a smile in her voice and eyes as she stared at Mon-El, and finally she broke a smile as well. She sighed with a resigned voice and changed the topic. “Anyway, how was it? I remember you telling me it took a bad turn in the last couple of episodes.” Frustration seeped into Mon-El’s features before he could help himself.

“It did. I mean, one reason I used to like the show was that the main character, Aimee, was in a stable relationship with her girlfriend, because there’s a real lack of stable relationships on TV. But this last season, they introduced a character from her past, this woman named Kyrsten, and the whole thing went downhill. The character didn’t add anything to the show other than unnecessary relationship drama, a very forced jealousy and out of character breakup, and disrespect between Aimee and Cori—that’s the girlfriend. And since I think they’ll get back together at the end of the season, it was so pointless. Like, I know some drama catches people’s attention and makes a show interesting, but the couple had already had three seasons of drama before they got together, and they only enjoyed their relationship for a season. They could’ve easily added a problem that Aimee and Cori had to face _together_ , as a couple, that would strengthen their relationship instead of strain it, but I guess some producers think that people can’t enjoy a relationship without a drama between the couple.” He sighed with frustration, his fist clenched on the table, as he looked at Kara. “Sorry, I got a bit carried away.”

“That’s okay,” Kara said with a soft smile. “It’s cute that you get so excited over fictional characters. I like it. Besides, you always listen to my ramblings about my job.” Mon-El nodded, not even bothering to deny it.

“True.” Kara glared at him over her potstickers, and opened her mouth to say something, but then her phone rang and interrupted her. She frowned as she reached for her phone, and at the same time, Mon-El’s phone vibrated in his pocket. They shared a knowing glance. It was DEO.

Kara answered the call from Alex, letting her know Mon-El was with him. He tried to listen in to the conversation as his phone stopped vibrating. Kara’s smile slowly disappeared from her face with whatever Alex was saying, leaving its place to a worried look. She gazed at Mon-El as she nodded.

“Okay, we’ll be there in a minute,” she promised before ending the call.

“What happened?” Mon-El asked as Kara stood up, smoothing her skirt. Kara shook her head.

“I don’t know, but Alex sounded really frightened, It’s something serious.” She grabbed her bag from the table, stuffing the package of potstickers inside. “Let’s go,” she told Mon-El as she exited the room. He followed without questioning.

* * *

**_13:20_ **

“Spaceship _s_?” Kara asked, staring at the screen in front of her. Her arms were crossed on her chest, her loose hair falling over her shoulders with her cape swirling behind her. She’d changed into her Supergirl suit when they arrived at the DEO, along with Mon-El wearing his suit, ready to go off and fight anything at any moment. Kara’s eyes turned to Winn. “As in, _multiple_ spaceships? Not just one?”

“Yep,” Winn said as he pulled up a map of National City. There were about ten red dots on it, blinking and moving as the group watched. “Five of them arrived at the same time, and their schematics look about the same, so we can assume they’re together.” He took a deep breath. “And it seems like they’re here to destroy National City.” Mon-El almost spurted the club soda he managed to steal when they arrived.

“Wait, wait, wait. Run that sentence back. _Destroy_ National City?”

“That’s what they said,” J’onn joined the conversation from behind them, walking next to the trio with Alex by his side. He was trying to hide his stress, yet anyone looking at him carefully would notice the tautness of his shoulders as he crossed his arms. So this wasn’t a joke after all. “They issued a statement and broadcasted it a couple of minutes ago.” Alex pressed a couple of buttons on the tablet, and the photo of a familiar alien popped up on the screen. Mon-El’s insides went cold as his arms fell to his sides.

“Is that a _Dominator_?” Kara asked, taking the question right out of Mon-El’s mouth. She glanced over her shoulder to J’onn.

“Unfortunately, yes.” He stopped for a moment as his gaze flickered to Mon-El. The Daxamite tensed even more, and he really didn’t think it was possible. “And you’re gonna like what he has to say even less.” With that, the video started, and the Dominator on the screen leaned forward.

“Inhabitants of National City,” it started with a very crooked voice. “We’re here in the name of Rhea Gand, Queen of Daxam. Four years ago, she was defeated by the aliens you call heroes: Kara Zor-El of Krypton and Mon-El of Daxam. She was sent to Phantom Zone. For that they shall be punished.” Mon-El clenched his teeth with those words, his heart sinking in his chest. Crossing his arms over his chest, he dug his nails to his arms in order to keep himself from doing something stupid, like punching a hole in the computer screen. He’d done that once, and it hadn’t gone well with J’onn.

He felt Kara’s hand on his arm then. His gaze turned to him as she squeezed his shoulder, offering him an encouraging and apologetic smile. He let her tug him close and uncrossed his arms to hold her hand, focusing on her instead of thinking National City was in danger once again because of him. She hadn’t blamed him the first time—at least after she got over the fact that he was the prince of Daxam and lied about it—realizing how horrible Rhea could be and standing by him when they stood up to her, and she wasn’t blaming him now either. Her squeeze on his hand told him that.

The Dominator on the screen continued. “When Kara Zor-El and Mon-El stood against our Queen, you stood by them and hid behind them, under their protection. You are just as guilty as them. For the punishment you all gave to Queen Rhea, we’re now here to destroy you and your city. Our attack will begin in five hours.” It lifted its head. “Long live Daxam! Long live Queen Rhea!” With that, the screen went black.

Nobody in the room spoke a word for a couple of seconds after the footage entered. It was Kara at the end that broke the silence. “We need to evacuate the city. Immediately,” she said, her voice all business. “Because things are gonna get messy if this thing is broadcasted on news channels.”

J’onn nodded at Alex with Kara’s words. “I’m gonna call Maggie,” Alex said as she took out her phone. “We’ll deal with the safety of people. You guys work on stopping this thing.” With that she turned around to leave, her phone glued to her ear.

“You guys have any ideas?” J’onn asked, turning to the couple standing next to him. Kara took a deep breath.

“I’ve fought Dominators before,” she revealed, crossing her arms over her chest, and glanced at Mon-El. “Do you remember the first time team Flash called me to their universe? That was for a Dominator invasion.” She then looked at J’onn, her brows furrowed with concentration. “We came up with a plan to defeat them then. If we team up again I think we can repeat it.” J’onn nodded.

“Okay, then you two get them as soon as possible, and then we’ll go over the plan. We need to make sure it’s foolproof, and we don’t have much time.”

“Yes, sir,” Mon-El said with a smile on his face, patting Kara on the shoulder. The Kryptonian sent a loving smile to his direction.

With that J’onn left as well, probably communicate with the head of the country and devise a plan to deal with the situation with the least amount of casualties. Kara and Mon-El walked to DEO’s storage room to get the interdimensional portal device thingy, as Mon-El liked to call it.

“So,” Kara started as she bumped her shoulder to Mon-El’s, smiling up at him. “Alien invasion. That’s a new one.”

“What do you mean?” he asked curiously. Kara shrugged and pushed her hair away from her face.

“Things that interrupted our dates. If you count you bringing me potstickers at work as a date.” Mon-El couldn’t help grinning at that and threw his arm around Kara’s shoulder.

“I’m gonna go ahead and say we should, because then, due to our busy schedules, it would be like we never go on dates, and _that_ is unacceptable.”

“You’re right,” Kara agreed with a chuckle. “Anyway, I was trying to say that we’ve had like twenty alien attacks, at least that many car chases and hostage situations, more than a hundred armed robberies, about ten metahuman attacks, and let’s not forget that one time an alien whammied Winn and made him fall in love with me, interrupt our dates, but no full out alien invasions.”

“Wait.” He pushed the storage room’s door open, gaping at Kara as she entered. “Are you _actually_ keeping a tab on all that stuff?” The Kryptonian shrugged as she walked to the now familiar locker.

“Well, it does happen often enough,” she said innocently, glancing over her shoulder. Mon-El had to agree with that.

“You know what?” he said after a couple of seconds of silence as they left the room to have a more open place for opening a portal.

“Hm?”

“One day, even if it’s years later, the crime rate in National City will drop low enough that we’re gonna be able to have our dates without worrying about any interruptions. They will stop being a normal occurrence and instead become something rare.” He smiled at Kara, knowing his idea was probably only wishful thinking. Yet Kara returned his smile and squeezed his hand, making butterflies fill his stomach.

“I look forward to it,” she said, even though she also was aware that would never happen. Still, it was a good dream to look forward to.

* * *

**_14:07_ **

“Dominator invasion?” Felicity said from the chair she was sitting on, spinning it to look at the group. “The Dominators that attacked our Earth a couple of years ago? You know the tall, white, extremely ugly aliens that look like they’re about to starve to death?” Kara nodded with a sigh, crossing her arms.

“They’re gonna attack National City in…”

“Four hours and thirteen minutes,” Mon-El supplied from behind her, looking at the clock on the computer.

“Thank you,” Kara said before turning to Felicity. “In four hours and thirty seven minutes.” Her gaze flickered around the room, passing each member of both team Flash and Arrow: Iris and Barry on the far left, standing side by side; Curtis next to them; then Diggle and Dinah Drake, who finally took up the mantle of Black Canary; Felicity sitting in the middle with Oliver standing behind his chair; Rene leaning on the table, Curtis beside him; and finally the rest of team Flash, including Wally, Cisco, Caitlin, Julian, Jesse, and Harry Wells from Earth-2 who recently moved to this universe permanently a year ago. Nobody had really joined either team in the last couple of years, yet relationship dynamics had changed greatly. Iris and Barry had married the previous year in a big wedding, which Mon-El and Kara attended. And as far as the Daxamite knew Oliver and Felicity were dating again after almost four years of staying apart. Curtis had broken things off completely with his husband, but if Felicity could be believed he was seeing someone else. But she also wasn’t quite sure. Cisco was still in an on-and-off relationship with that other girl that could vibe like him—was her name Gypsy?—and Caitlin and Julian had broke things off after dating for two years with a mutual decision. They still seemed like close friends.

In fact, everyone in the room were close friends after the years that passed, even though Mon-El didn’t know each of them personally. They’d visited each other’s worlds frequently in the last years, even when there wasn’t a threat. And when there was, neither team left the others alone. They’d formed a bond among each other through all of their desires to help people, and that bond couldn’t easily be broken.

“What Kara’s trying to say is that,” Mon-El finished the Kryptonian’s words, stepping forward. “We need your help.”

It was Oliver that spoke up first. “Okay,” he agreed without hesitation, yet Mon-El could see the confusion on his face. “But do we know why they’re attacking? When they came to our universe, they were trying to stop the metahuman threat. I thought your universe didn’t have that.”

“We don’t,” Kara confessed, but then her voice trailed off. She ducked her chin as she glanced at Mon-El, running her fingers through her hair. “That isn’t why they’re attacking.” Mon-El immediately picked up on what she was doing when her hand brushed his and her eyes bore into him. She was giving him the choice to tell the group or not. She wasn’t outright telling them something personal to him, instead respecting his privacy. He smiled at her thoughtfulness, trying to show instead of voice how grateful he was, before turning to the group. Kara’s hand found his as an encouragement.

“In our universe, Daxamites worked closely with Dominators,” he began to explain, his eyes trained on the computer behind Felicity. “They were one of the only planets we had an allegiance with. So apparently they were angry at us when we sent Queen Rhea to the Phantom Zone. They’re here to take revenge for that.” The last words left his mouth as a whisper as he bowed his head, shame filling his stomach. No matter how many times Kara would tell him that it wasn’t his fault, there would always be a part of him that would blame himself for the whole situation. If he hadn’t landed on Earth, if he hadn’t chosen to stay… None of this would happen.

Of course, every time he voiced those thoughts, Kara’s answer was the same: “But then we wouldn’t be together, and we wouldn’t be happy. I wouldn’t exchange what we have now for anything.”

He felt her hand move to his shoulder after he finished his words, and squeeze it. Flashing her a smile, he mouthed a “thank you,” and covered her hand with his.

“Oh, wow,” Felicity started, turning to face Oliver. “And here I thought your mom was vicious.” Oliver shot her a glare, which made her eyes go wide immediately. “But, you know, never speak ill of the dead. Whatever she did, Moira liked you.”

_“Felicity.”_

“I’m gonna shut up now.” Mon-El found himself smiling at the couple. Whatever broke them apart all those years ago, he was glad that they found their way back to each other. They fit like lock and key, and they understood each other better than anyone did.

“Anyway,” Kara said, changing the topic. “When Dominators attacked your universe you guys created some nanotechnology device… _something_ to beat them. Maybe we could use the same thing on our Earth, get rid of them for good? You know, we’d done a really good job of it the last time.” She beamed at the team with a hopeful smile, clasping her hands together in front of her. Even though she’d phrased the question as a request more like a demand, the answer was obvious. It was Barry who answered it for the whole team.

“Then let’s kick some Dominator ass. Again.”

* * *

**_17:53_ **

Mon-El could make out the shape of Dominator spaceships from his spot on the DEO’s roof. He’d gone up there to have a moment alone as the rest of the team finished the last preparations with the nanotechnology and go over the plan once again. Team Flash and Arrow would tag the Dominators with the technology, along with the help of Guardian. At the same time, Barry, Kara, J’onn, Clark and him would go up to the spaceships and plot a course for them to the same place they’d sent Rhea: the Phantom Zone. Winn told them what codes they needed to use to set up a permanent, unchangeable course; all they needed to do was punch their ways into the spaceships, find the Command Center, enter the codes, and get the hell out of there. Five spaceships, five superheroes. Easy breezy. At least that was what Clark had said when he came from Metropolis.

Kara was probably with her cousin now, discussing the last couple of months of their lives since they’d last seen each other. They couldn’t visit each other as frequently as they probably wanted to, since they both had duties in their respective cities and it wasn’t a short fly between Metropolis and National City, so whenever Clark visited Mon-El gave them time to catch up. Besides, he had stuff to think about. About the Dominators, about the meaning behind their attack, about his _mother_ …

_And here I thought I was finally free from her_. After years of suffering under her influence on Daxam, being reminded time and time again how he would never be good enough and without her he was nothing, he’d thought he would never have to see _Queen Rhea_ when he landed on Earth. Here he’d learned how abusive his mother’s behavior had actually been. She’d manipulated him into thinking his ideas and beliefs were wrong, that he ought to follow the example she and Lar Gand set for him, that no matter what he tried he’d never be worthy of anything. He’d learned all that was wrong, and once he was freed from that toxic influence he’d managed to mold himself from the person his parents wanted him to become to who he wanted to be, or who he’d always been but was too afraid to show. Once that happened he was almost glad his parents were gone.

Of course, that whole thing fell apart when King and Queen swooped into Earth’s atmosphere, almost ruining everything he’d built here. They’d once again tried to make him into someone that he so despised now. He knew if they’d come a couple of months earlier, before Kara could inspire him as much as she did, they’d probably succeed. But it was too late. His father had seen that, how different a person he’d become, and let him go. Not his mother, though. Rhea, no matter what happened, got what she wanted, even if that meant killing her husband and reigning terror on innocent people. They’d luckily managed to capture her before she could damage National City, and after deciding Phantom Zone was the most fitting punishment for her they’d sent her there permanently. This time, Mon-El had been sure he wouldn’t have to face her again, or the consequences of her actions, but he’d been wrong. Now, once again, because of her—and consequently him—National City was under threat. And yes, no matter what Kara said it was hard not to feel guilty about that.

“Mon-El?” Kara’s voice distracted him from his thoughts as he looked back, seeing the Kryptonian walk up to her. There was a crinkle between her brows that suggested she was worried. “You’ve been gone a long time. What are you doing here?” Mon-El shrugged as she stood next to him, looking up expectantly.

“Nothing,” he lied, yet he knew Kara could see through him easily. She arched her brow. “Okay, fine. Not nothing,” he had to confess a couple of seconds later, his shoulders slumping. Kara didn’t say anything, only watching and waiting him to continue. “I’m just thinking about the Dominators and…and my mother, you know?” He scratched his cheek and shook his head, his eyes trained on the floor. “Four years ago, when we finally sent her to Phantom Zone, I thought I’d gotten rid of her forever. I mean, I wouldn’t have to… She wouldn’t be able to influence my life or threaten what I found here anymore. She would just be a part of the past. But now there’re these Dominators coming to attack National City in her name, and it’s like… It feels like my past is always catching up to me, you know? Like the more I try to move on from it, the more it comes back.” He huffed, trying to pull his thoughts together before facing Kara.

“Mon-El,” she whispered, pain lacing her words, as she reached up to cup his cheeks. “This isn’t your fault.”

“I know,” he said honestly, taking a deep breath. “I know, but it doesn’t really feel like that.” Kara smiled at his words and stroked his hair.

“You’d found a new life here Mon-El. Just because your mother didn’t understand that and attacked National City, or brought those Dominators here doesn’t mean it’s on you. You were just fighting for your happiness. There’s nothing wrong with that.” She lifted her brows. “Understood?” Mon-El’s stormy gray eyes met Kara’s bright blue ones, and somehow, when he looked at her, he knew everything they’d been through had been worth it. To have this… What did they say? He’d walk through hell to be with Kara.

“Yeah. Understood.” He leaned forward to press a kiss on Kara’s forehead. She leaned into the kiss as her hands dropped on his shoulders, rubbing them reassuringly. She pulled back a couple of seconds later.

“But now we really need to go,” she started, “because there’s about ten minutes till the attack, and J’onn wants us at our positions.” She smoothed Mon-El’s cape. “You ready?”

“Born ready.”

* * *

**_18:32_ **

Nobody saw it coming. Nobody saw or heard what happened or how it happened. Nobody guessed it, nobody _could’ve_ guessed it. One second everything was fine, and then another…

They were fighting the Dominators for Mon-El didn’t know how long. It seemed like forever. After the Dominators attacked, every person in the team immediately went to their posts: The “flying team,” as Cisco and Felicity liked to call, went to their assigned spaceships without wasting any time. Kara had called dibbs on the one in the middle—the one that Winn said was the most advanced and protected—saying that it was her city that they were protecting, and besides she was strongest of them all. Only Clark tried to object at first, but was quickly shut down by Kara’s glare. The others went to the spaceships surrounding.

Finding his way around in the spaceship took the good part of Mon-El’s time. He’d spent more time circling around and around than he’d spent knocking down Dominators. But finally the job was done, he entered the codes in the command center and set the spaceship to get off in five minutes, before getting the hell out of there. It was much easier than getting in as he lost his way considerably less times.

Following the plan, he’d then went to the DEO to grab the nanotechnology, aiding the rest of the team in tagging Dominators. With almost all superpowered people in the spaceships they couldn’t make much of a process. Clark and J’onn joined shortly after, and then Barry appeared as a streak of lightning in a couple of minutes. It was only Kara that was left.

Mon-El wanted to go up there and help her. He knew that wasn’t the plan, he knew even if he did go in there it would take a whole lot of time to even find Kara—and she’d probably be done with the job by the time he went up there anyway—yet the feeling was there. Every minute he didn’t see Kara, every minute she didn’t show up at the door of the spaceship he had to stop himself all over again from going up there.

_It’s taking too long_.

That was when he started to feel that something was wrong. It would never take this long for Kara to find his way through that spaceship and reach command center. She was way stronger and skilled than him. With her heat and X-ray vision and freeze breath, with her invincible skin she should’ve been able to get through some Dominators easily. Way more easily than him.

Or maybe he thought all that later, as he held her in his arms. Maybe he hadn’t felt anything was wrong, maybe he was completely oblivious and he’d reconstructed the whole event in his mind to make himself feel better. To spare the guilt of not realizing the situation her fiancée was in. To at least, while drowning in all the pain and guilt surrounding that night, spare himself from another burden.

He remembered going up to Clark, punching a Dominator that was planning on attacking him from behind. “I’m going to help Kara!” he yelled when the Kryptonian turned to him. “She’s been there too long.”

“No,” Clark answered as he attached another nanotechnology to a Dominator. “Mon-El, that’s not the plan.”

“I don’t _care_.” His fists were clenched at his sides as he looked up at the spaceship, willing for Kara to show up, to fly down with her cape swishing behind her and her smile lighting up her face, scolding him for thinking she’d ever need help. He didn’t come. “I have to go.”

Clark opened his mouth to object, always the good soldier, when a figure left the spaceship. His words died in his mouths as they both looked up. Relief washed over Mon-El when he saw the familiarity of it: There was no mistaking the red and blue costume of the woman. It was Kara. So she’d made it at the end.

His relief was short-lived, though. A smile didn’t even have time to form on his lips as his eyes followed the figure, waiting for it to slow down, to change directions, to take a landing position. Yet the figure kept falling, falling, falling, faster with each second. The gravity was pulling her like it would pull a normal human, and Kara wasn’t doing anything to counter it. She wasn’t flying. She was just… _falling_.

Mon-El hadn’t known a life could end so suddenly, so abruptly, until Daxam was destroyed. He remembered the door of his pod closing, he remembered taking off and shooting towards the sky, he remembered picking up speed and watching his whole planet be destroyed by meteorites, crushing everything he knew to bits and pieces. He’d never felt dread like that before in his life. Fear gripping his lungs, threatening to leave him breathless, threatening to suck up whatever was left in him. He felt like he was on the surface of Daxam and a meteorite was falling on him, and it was threatening to crush him to his death, yet that moment never came. Instead he watched the meteorite, knowing full well the danger he was in, waiting for the moment his life would be taken from him. It was as if he’d died not physically but emotionally.

He’d felt the exact same feelings as he watched Kara fall. He didn’t remember taking up flight and rushing to her side, he barely remembered catching her and bringing her to the ground, yet even after years he doubted he’d forget the feeling of her in his arms. Her limp body crashing into her arms, her head falling back, her hair swinging behind her like a golden waterfall. He landed with a thump and his knees immediately gave up, hitting the ground. Kara’s body slumped in her lap, her hand sliding down to the side, her head falling back.

She was shining, green veins emanating from the knife in her chest. There was no mistaking the green material of it.

His heart plummeted in his chest as he realized what it was. Kryptonite. _Kryptonite_. The word circled around in his head, over and over again, as he struggled to process. _It can’t be_. _No_. He grabbed the knife with shaky hands and pulled it out.

He didn’t even hear it clatter to the ground.

The veins seemed like pulsating all over her body, shimmering through her suit and on her face; or else Mon-El was seeing blurry. He reached forward for Kara’s face and pulled her head up so that they would be facing each other.

His eyes found blue ones looking back at him. Not really _looking_ , though. There was no emotion in those eyes; no spark, no light, no…life. They were just two blue stones, dull in color, instead of two comets that captivated you.

Lifeless. Blank. _Dead_.

_“No,”_ Mon-El choked, the word leaving his mouth as if it was forced. No, no, no. The word spun around in his head as he gripped Kara’s head tighter, seconds away from shaking her. His fingers snaked through her hair, tangling into the knots and pulling them. He didn’t care. He couldn’t bring himself to care. He barely heard the battle going on around him, barely heard the spaceships leaving, barely heard the screams of Dominators as they disappeared one by one. His sole focus was on the person lying in his arms that was so close and so far away at the same time.

“Kara, _no_ ,” he continued, his voice tear-strained. The huge knot in his throat made it impossible to speak in a normal tone. Not that he could form proper sentences anyway. Not when looking at Kara’s eyes and seeing his life slip away from his hands inch by inch, and he was helpless to do anything about it. “No, you can’t be…” The word got stuck in his throat, refusing to leave. Saying it out loud meant accepting it. When it was out, it was out. There was no taking it back. There was no going back. If he said it… She’d be gone forever, and she’d never be coming back, and Mon-El didn’t know if he was ready for that.

He wasn’t. He would never be ready.

“Hey, look at me,” he begged as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, supporting her weight. He was pretty sure his embrace was tight enough to break every bone in a human’s body. “Look at me, please. I’m here, Kara. I’m here.” He slid his hand down her neck to grasp her hand, lacing their fingers together. “It’s gonna be okay. Everything’s gonna be okay. Just… Just look at me, and then we’ll fix this, okay? Or—Or if you can’t, squeeze my hand. Can you do that, babe?” He looked at her face hopefully, their hands resting on her stomach, yet there was no movement. No flicker of eyelids, no twitch of muscle, no tightness on his hand that indicated she was holding him back. There was nothing.

His ears were ringing with the pounding of his heart as he shook his head, tears blurring his vision _. She has to be alive_ , he thought, over and over again, as if sheer will would bring her back. _She can’t leave me. Not like this_.

He waited one more second, and then another second more for her to blink, for her eyes to focus on him, for her to squeeze her hand and say that she’s with him and she’ll always be with him. That was what they’d promised each other, right? That was what the ring on her finger meant? The promise of standing by each other through everything? The promise of being together? The promise of a future? How could she leave after that? How could she leave knowing that… Knowing she was his home, and without her he was nothing? Knowing he needed her, and that the thought of losing her was more painful than anything he could think of, even being shot by a lead bullet or watching his world being destroyed? Everything else he could bear, no matter how excruciating, as long as she was by her side.

“Please, Kara,” he whispered, tears wetting his cheeks. He didn’t bother to wipe them away, partly because he didn’t care and partly he didn’t want to let Kara’s hand or body go, even for one second. “Y-You can’t leave me. I need… I need you. I can’t do it without you. Please.” _You are my home, you are my everything. And I love you. I love you. I love you_. “Please _stay with me_.” A silent sob shook his body as he stared at Kara, memorized the lines of her face, her eyes, her lashes; memorized the hair framing her head and the spectrum of colors in them, ranging from the brightest shade of yellow to deepest brown, the richest colors he’d ever seen. And he willed her, willed her to wake up, he waited and waited and waited so long that he didn’t know what he waited for, yet nothing happened. He didn’t even notice the group of superheroes gathering around him until someone gasped.

“Oh my God.” He didn’t look back to see who it was. He couldn’t take his eyes off of Kara, he couldn’t let her hand go. He held on with his dear life to a ghost, as if grasping it would keep it here. The body in his hands—and it was a body now, not a person—wasn’t alive; it was just a husk of what it had been.

_Come back to me. Come back. Please_.

He heard footsteps approaching him, he saw a flash of blue and red kneeling forward in front of him from the corner of his eyes. He didn’t look up.

_I love you. You’re my life. I love you_.

“Is she…” someone said, someone that sounded like Cisco. The question was probably directed to him. He didn’t even bother to try and move his mouth.

_This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. You weren’t supposed to leave me like that_.

Clark took the knife that was standing by Kara’s side, immediately grunting with kryptonite’s effects. The knife dropped to the ground again. “It’s kryptonite,” he hissed, his voice devoid of any kind of emotion. “She’s been stabbed.”

_I can’t live without you. Kara, please stay. Please. Please_.

Silence stretched around him, nobody even daring to breathe as they looked at the scene in front of them. Mon-El didn’t know if it was better or not, because now there was nothing to distract him from the screaming turmoil of emotions inside. Every bit of pain, agony, grief, guilt were clawing his insides, bleeding him out. And suddenly he was back on Daxam, standing under that meteorite and watching it fall, fall, fall, without really reaching him and without hurting him but terrifying him anyway. Because it was his fault. All of this was his fault. He’d brought Rhea here. Because of him they’d sent her to Phantom Zone. And now Dominators had come and…

And they got what they wanted. They punished him in the worst way possible. In the end they hadn’t invaded or destroyed the city, they barely killed any civilians, and their course was set to the Phantom Zone. Yet they’d won, getting their revenge in the best way by taking away the most precious thing on Earth. Without her… Every moment of his life would be stripped away from having any meaning at all, or any purpose, because what was the point? What was the point without her? Why would he move on, why would he _want to_ move on? She was gone, and there was nothing anyone could do about it.

_She’s gone, she’s gone, she’s gone_.

He finally lifted his head slowly, facing the group in front of him. All of their faces blurred together, indistinguishable from one another, yet everyone that had gone out to fight was there: Oliver, Curtis, Rene, Diggle, Barry, Wally, Jesse, J’onn, Clark, James. All of them standing around him, looking at the body of the fallen hero in his arms. Either the ground was shaking or he was shaking, because their images shuddered as he tried to keep his focus. It didn’t work.

The next words were the hardest ones he’d ever said in his life. “She’s gone.” And then the meteorite fell over his head.


	5. Ripple Effect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!
> 
> Sooooo yeah, I know I'm posting this chapter a day early than my usual posting schedule, BUT I have an AP exam tomorrow, and I might not exactly be in the right mind to think before OR after the exam and actually forget posting it, so I'm doing this right now. Don't say I never think about my precious readers ;)
> 
> Anyway, I hope you like this chapter, and I hate to be asking this, but I'm gonna need as much motivation as I can get from tomorrow, so a kudos or a comment, even a short one, would be greatly appreciated. You're all so amazing and one of the reasons that makes me happy and keeps me going, and I love you SO SO much. I just wanted to let you know :) And thank you to everyone who read, gave a kudos, or commented on the story, if it wasn't for you I doubt I'd be able to commit myself to Second Chance this much. 
> 
> I hope ya'll like this!

**21 st of March, 2022**

**_08:56_ **

“Kara.” He couldn’t stop the word from leaving his mouth. His brain was firing so many thoughts at the same time that it was hard to distinguish one from another. It was her. It was _her_. Kara was here, walking in the middle of the parking lot, and no matter how many times he blinked she wasn’t going away. She was still there, still walking, still holding the phone in her hands. Though the moment he whispered her name her steps had slowed and she’d lifted her head.

Mon-El knew her well enough to know that it wasn’t intentional but instinctive. Even though she was generally good at hiding her superhearing, not responding to anything she heard that would be impossible for a human to hear, her name had always proved hard for her. She couldn’t help turning to it at first, but she always managed to hide it.

Mon-El probably wouldn’t have suspected she heard it either from the way she kept her eyes to her front and quickly picked up pace, but that flicker of moment, that split-second told him everything he needed. Kara had heard it, and she responded in a way that _his_ Kara would, and she… It was her. _His_ Kara. Nobody would be able to imitate something so ingrained in her that _perfectly_.

And she was walking away.

Mon-El snapped out of his stupor immediately and scrambled with the car keys, managing to unlock the door and open it at third try. His hands were shaking so much that it was a miracle it didn’t take him longer. He pushed the door shut a bit harder than he intended because of his pounding heart. He didn’t care. Kara was there, she was right in front of him. He couldn’t think of anything else, not even the huge chance of all of this being nothing but a hallucination. He just knew he _needed_ her desperately, he needed to hug her and hold her in his arms, he needed to bury his face in her hair and inhale her scent, he needed her to be there for him after days and weeks and months of being apart. He’d always missed her miserably, and the thought of not being able to feel her embrace or hear her voice or taste her lips brought him to the edge of having a panic attack several times, yet he never felt the yearning as deeply as _now_. She was so, so close that only then he realized how much he wanted to haul her up to his chest and hold her so tightly that she would never be able to slip from his fingers again. He needed her so badly that it _hurt_.

“Kara, wait,” he called out behind her before she could get out of his earshot, scrambling forward. His voice was hoarse with the emotional turmoil going on inside him. The Kryptonian stopped this time and turned around, her eyes finding Mon-El.

The Daxamite’s steps halted the moment their eyes met. He gasped, air getting stuck at his throat. _Comets_ , he thought, looking at the way those blue orbs caught and reflected light. They were looking at him. They were seeing him and taking him in. They weren’t blank, they weren’t emotionless. They were _alive_. He remembered the last time he looked in them at the…at the Dominator invasion. All the light has been taken out. They were lifeless, like two blue stones looking at him instead of vibrant blue stars.

Now that vibrancy was back, the spark and joy and liveliness, as Kara looked at him with confusion and maybe a bit of apprehension. There was no recognition in her eyes, Mon-El could see that, yet he couldn’t exactly _perceive_ it. He took a tentative step forward, closing the distance between them. She was right there, right in front of him now, at arm’s length. His eyes searched her face, looking at every single detail and trying to find something that indicated it wasn’t really Kara. He found none.

“Um, who are—“ the Kryptonian started but Mon-El cut her words with a hug. He wasn’t really hearing anything anyway because of the ringing in his ears. He reached for her, his arms circled her waist and pulled her close, as close as she could get. A part of him had expected to hug air, expected Kara to be another hallucination or a dream, yet he could feel her clothes under his hands, he could feel her chest flushed with his, he could feel her hair brushing his cheek as he buried his face to the crook of her neck. He held her tight, tighter than he’d held anything in his life, in a literal bone-crushing hug.

She was real. She was there, in his arms, and she was _real_.

Tears filled his eyes as he inhaled her scent, the scent he was oh-so familiar with, as his hand on her back traced the line of her spine and his fingers dug into her hair. “You’re here,” he whispered with a voice strained with unshed tears. “Kara, oh my God, you’re…you’re _back_.” He closed his eyes and savored the moment, wishing with all his heart that he was right. That this was real. At the back of his mind a voice, the only logical part of his mind, was telling him to get himself together and remember everything he’d been through since the morning, everything he’d _seen_. Whatever this place was, it wasn’t his world. And sooner or later he knew this would end, he’d once again have to let her go, but… But when she was in his arms, when he could hear her breath and heartbeat, when he could run his fingers through her hair and feel her skin against his, it was… It was _impossible_ to think that. It was impossible to _care_ about that.

After what felt like minutes, but probably wasn’t longer than a couple of seconds, Kara lifted her hands to grasp his shoulders, her fingers digging into his skin. He shivered under the sensation, leaning into the hug and—

Kara shoved him away with all of her strength, so much so that his arms were ripped from her waist. He stumbled back a step before gaining his balance, and lifted his head to look at Kara.

She looked _furious_.

“What the _hell_ do you think you’re doing?” she snapped at him, her hands lifted in front of her as if to protect herself. Anger was fueling her words and twinkling in her eyes, yet for someone who’d seen Kara angry multiple times in the five plus years they spent together, it was easy to spot the slight fear and confusion there too.

Mon-El was caught too off guard. He didn’t know what to do as he stared at her, his heart threatening to jump out of his chest. He shook his head absentmindedly. No, no, what he saw in Kara’s eyes was impossible. This was his Kara. _His Kara_. He was sure of it. He’d spent years by her side, watching her, memorizing her every move and every expression, every instinct and every habit. He would’ve recognized it if she wasn’t her. He would’ve known something was wrong, especially since… Especially since he’d been _looking for it_. There was no way anyone could imitate her like that.

But his Kara would never look at her with such suspicion, she would never fear him, or she would never push him back like that as if he was some sort of plague. She liked his hugs; his arms wrapped around her waist tightly, his chin resting on her shoulder, his fingers grasping the ends of her hair and pulling it playfully to make her laugh. Having an invincible skin and super strength, she barely felt it even if her other friends hugged her as tightly as possible. With Mon-El, though… _It’s a good thing I can hold you as tightly as I want to without breaking every bone in your body_ , she’d told him once. _Everyone needs a tight hug every once a while_.

Why would that person be pushing him away now, when _he_ needed that tight hug from _her_ more than anything?

“Kara, what—what are you doing?” he stuttered with a quivering voice, a humorless laugh leaving his lips. It died off quickly. “It-It’s me. Don’t you remember me?” Kara lifted her brows, reluctant to drop her hands as she straightened her shoulders and adjusted her glasses. The way she’d done that… It was so like her, even the crinkle between her brows, that it brought tears to Mon-El’s eyes.

 _She has to remember me_. _She has to_.

“Should I?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest as if to physically put a barrier between them. _Yes_ , Mon-El thought desperately. _You have to. We’ve been together for more than five years now. You’re my… You’re my fiancée. My love. My…everything. Please_.

He opened his mouth to say all of that and more, yet…no words left his mouth. He just shook his head, blinking his tears away.

“Look,” Kara started when he didn’t say anything with a nervous laugh and stepped back. “I’m sorry but I don’t know who you are. You must’ve mistaken me with someone else.” Her eyes traveled on Mon-El’s face one last time before she turned around to leave.

Something cracked in Mon-El’s heart when he saw her walk away. It reminded him of all those years ago when she first broke up with him, and he had to walk away and let her go. It was one of the hardest things to do when she was the only thing that made life worth _living_ instead of just surviving. He didn’t want to imagine his life without her then. And now, actually _knowing_ how it was without her… That was something he never, _ever_ wanted to go through again. It was the most painful experience of his life, and he had watched his planet get destroyed right in front of his eyes without being able to do anything about it. That felt like a knife twisting in his chest. And a knife wound… It was healable. But there was really nothing you could do to recover if someone ripped your heart right out of your chest.

He couldn’t let her walk away from him and leave his life. He _couldn’t_.

“No, wait, _please_ ,” he called and rushed forward, stepping right in front of her to stop her. Kara’s steps halted as she once again found herself face to face with the Daxamite. He took off his glasses. “Kara, look at me. It’s me. It’s… It’s Mon-El. I’m your fiancé.” Kara’s mouth dropped with his words. She looked at him incredulously and started laughing, but then she must’ve realized he wasn’t kidding because she stopped.

“Okay, you’re starting to creep me out,” she said, stepping to the side as if to circle around him. “We’re not _engaged_. I don’t even _have_ a boyfriend.” She shut her eyes with those words and shook her head. “Not that it’s any of your business. My point is,” she opened her eyes, the blue orbs searing him, “we don’t _know_ each other.” She lifted her hands in front of him, putting as much distance between them as possible.

Mon-El shook his head and clenched his fists. “We do,” he jumped in, stepping in front of her again. “We know each other, Kara. We’ve been together for years. Please, please just… Please try to remember. I know you can. Just… Just look at me and try.” _Please. I love you, Kara. I love you, and I can’t lose you again_. The words died on his tongue as emotions overwhelmed him, twisting and turning in his stomach. He was barely holding on, just at the edge of crying, and he was worried if… If he opened his mouth and tried to say another word his resolve would crumble and he’d find himself crying once again. And he was so _tired_ of crying.

Kara stopped with his words, her brows furrowed as she stared at Mon-El intently, as if she was trying to pull up a memory that wasn’t there anymore. Hope filled Mon-El’s chest for just one second before Kara lifted her chin and took her phone out of her back pocket. He didn’t even know when she put it there, but it must’ve been in the middle of him hugging her and her trying to get away.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know you. You’re… You’re either delusional, or crazy, or…whatever, but if you don’t leave me alone, I’m gonna need to call the police.”

_The police?_

Mon-El couldn’t process what Kara was talking about at first. Why would she, the girl of steel, the hero of National City, the strongest and most powerful woman in the world, would need to call the police? It didn’t make sense. None of this… None of it made sense. Kara not remembering him, acting like…acting like they’d never met before and treating him like a hostile, delusional person… He shook his head. That was not who Kara was. No matter what Kara wouldn’t back down from a challenge, she handled her problems herself, and she… She loved him. It’d been hard for him to accept or even believe in that at first, but she’d proved that time and time again in the _years_ they´ve spent together. There was no doubt in his mind about her feelings for him. So now why was she…

 _Because this isn’t really her_ , the logical part of his mind whispered. _This is all made up, and none of this is real. She’s just acting her part in the hallucination_. The truth of those words seeped in slowly, crushing him under their weight.

 _But she’d seemed so real_.

He closed his eyes to compose himself and keep the tears at bay. He’d known she couldn’t be real, that she _wasn’t_ real. He’d told Alex as much: Kara was gone, forever; she wasn’t coming back. They would never see her again. It was his fault that he got succumbed into the fantasy of seeing her again and failed to resist the temptation of it. He’d hoped for it to real so, so badly, and that was the problem: He wanted it so much that he _started_ believing in it.

Somehow, it hurt more than he imagined it would. It wasn’t like he never imagined what would be like if to see Kara for one more minute, if he could hug her and kiss her and hear her voice once more. He wondered what they’d do if they just had one more minute. But he always knew… He always knew even if he’d _gotten_ that one minute, once she was gone again it would hurt so badly. He’d have to go through the pain of loss all over again. He was right about that. There was just one teeny, tiny bit that he missed: It didn’t hurt _as much as_ losing her the first time, it hurt _a whole lot more_ than that.

“Now leave me alone.” That was the last thing Kara said before Mon-El heard her turn around to leave. He opened his eyes to see her walk away and out of his life, slipping through his fingers once again, just as when she fell from the sky with that kryptonite knife in her chest. And once again, there was nothing, _nothing_ he could do about it.

* * *

**_17:43_ **

Mon-El was staring at the tree in front of him absentmindedly, his hands tucked in his pockets, leaning back on the bench he was sitting on. He could hear the faint sound of a water fountain in the distance, people walking around, a couple of children jumping and skipping as their parents watched, and a couple sitting on the grass with a blanket underneath them and a picnic basket to their side, laughing at something. Somehow, life was going on around him in all of its minute details, yet he was _stuck_.

After… After Kara left the parking lot, he’d stayed there for a couple of minutes, trying to pull himself together and get moving. It was harder than he’d thought. It was as if he’d reverted back to the mindset he was in when Kara first died. He couldn’t get his mind off of her then. Everything—and he meant _everything_ —reminded him of her. No matter what he did, whether he was out superheroing, or he was in the DEO, or was watching a TV show or even when he was dead drunk, she was at the back of his mind. Well, not even at the back, she was at the _forefront_. Everything he did was poisoned by the memories of her, because they all brought him nothing but pain. Remembering how happy they’d been… How they had it all… It was only a reminder that he wasn’t getting it back.

In time, he’d taught himself to block her out, at least for short times, and focus on other things. He managed to get back on track before he lost his job, he’d given up alcohol indefinitely, he’d donned his suit again and continued his duties as Valor. If you counted work and Valor duo living, then he’d continued living. But he would’ve only called it surviving, because that was all you could do when your loved one died. Of course you tried hanging onto what you’ve left, since the only other option was giving up and succumbing to depression, and despite the appealing nature of it Mon-El knew Kara would smack him upside down if he ever did something like that. _She’d_ want him to keep on going. Even if that meant turning himself into a hollow husk.

The problem was, he’d never thought of the possibility of seeing Kara again as he tried to move on. He’d prepared himself for many things that could put him right back into a depressed mode, at least as best as possible, yet what happened today? It wasn’t one of them. It was different than seeing her in his dream, than hearing her voice in his mind, or looking at her photos. This was Kara, flesh and blood and alive. Even if none of this was real, in this twisted reality she was alive. His hand didn’t go through her when he tried to touch her. He didn’t hug air when he wrapped his arms around her. And when she walked away… It was just like…like losing her all over again. He didn’t even know how he’d managed to get in the car, put his glasses back on, started it and drove to his house. Well, the house that seemed to be his. He didn’t know how he remembered the directions to it, but he didn’t particularly mind it. He didn’t exactly remember entering the house or plumping down on the couch either.

He did remember the rest, though. Once again that day tears had filled his eyes and threatened to fall down, and that was when he pushed all his feelings down and took action. He’d been practicing indifference for so long now that it felt easy, easier than it should’ve been. Yet if he continued sitting down without doing anything he’d lose his mind.

He’d torn through his house, finding every scrap of evidence, trying to figure out what kind of life he was living. What was the first rule of hallucinations? Find inconsistencies. Things that don’t make sense. That are different, unusual, unreal. That might be his ticket home. Or his old world. He didn’t know what _home_ meant anymore.

The only thing he found out was the life of a completely different person than him. And it wasn’t much. Yes, there were photos, there were documents, Facebook and Instagram accounts, but most didn’t mean much to him. He found a DEO ID card for Mike Matthews, as well as a work email account that he couldn’t get into. No matter how many different combinations of passwords he tried it didn’t work, and he’d even tried the names of his parents. He couldn’t find anything about the Gemm magazine he used to work on, or anything related to Savanna. It was as if both his previous TV and movie critic job and his editor disappeared from his life, replaced by what looked like a job in DEO _. Consultant in Extraterrestrial Life_. Cute. He also found a driver’s license, credit card, and a Barnes &Noble MasterCard. At least he liked reading in this life too.

He also rummaged through his closet, cupboards, bookshelves, and even kitchen counters to see if he could find anything else. There was nothing, if you didn’t count the absence of plaid shirts that used to fill his closet and any romance book or movie he used to love so much. It was as if…

It was as if someone entered his life and plucked anything and everything he cared about. From what he could gather, in this life he landed on Earth about the same time, but after that nothing had gone the same way.

He’d stared long and hard to the papers scattered in front of him after half an hour, trying to figure out what went wrong where. That was when it hit him. And then he wanted to smack his head into a wall because he didn’t notice it before.

 _Kara_.

There was no denying how much the woman changed his life. From the moment he landed on Earth, she was the one that introduced him to many of the things he knew. And Mon-El had to admit that he’d shaped most of his life around what she taught him. All those romance books and cheesy rom-coms, the musicals, even the plaid shirts and all the brightness of the color spectrum. He’d loved them partly because it came from Kara. Not that he regretted anything, or he blindly accepted anything that she gave him, but she was still the one that molded some of his personality.

He took his laptop with that realization and typed _Supergirl_ , waiting impatiently for search results to load. Normally all those news would pop up that wrote how Supergirl saved a little girl from a fire, or stopped two people robbing a bank, or prevented yet another alien attack. But when the page opened… Well, the page wasn’t exactly empty, but Mon-El didn’t even want to think about some of the pages that came up. He’d almost forgotten how crazy people could go with cosplays.

There was nothing about Kara. No news, no articles, no photos. It was as if her Supergirl identity didn’t exist at all. _That’s impossible_ , he’d thought, digging deeper and deeper, but after a couple of minutes he’d given up. Supergirl didn’t exist in this world.

_But then how did I become Valor?_

He doubted he’d ever believe he could be a hero without Kara. She was the one that pushed him in that path, that made him realize his potential, that showed him he was good deep in his heart. He would never become the man he was today if it wasn’t for her help.

But then that would explain why Kara didn’t remember him at all. If she wasn’t Supergirl, she wouldn’t have found him. Maybe… Maybe DEO would still find Mon-El’s pod and bring him in, since he remembered Alex mentioning that DEO had been a thing way before Kara became Supergirl. Alex had been working with them longer than Kara did. In that case it also made sense why Alex and J’onn knew him but Kara and Winn didn’t, and why Winn wasn’t working in DEO or, as far as he could see, James was nowhere to be seen. Kara was the one that glued all those pieces together. When she wasn’t in the picture…

He’d had a hard time wrapping his mind around all of that. How… How he’d ended up so _different_ in some ways, but so _similar_ in others. He’d searched for news about Valor after looking at Supergirl, remembering that was what Alex called him in the morning. The news about the superhero popped up even before the definition of the word. _Valor stopped arson attempt in a mental hospital. Valor prevented a robbery in National City Art Museum. Valor saved 8 people from a hostage situation in National City Bank_. And many, many more. There seemed to be an endless supply of them, almost one for every day of the year. So much so that it took him the better part of an hour to find the first ever news about him:

 _Mysterious man stops an alien attack in downtown National City_.

There were a bunch of low quality videos of him fighting something that looked extremely like the Parasite: The first creature he’d ever stood up to on this earth. Only this time he was the only one fighting him. The footage was pretty shaky and blurry, yet he saw himself getting punched in the face and thrown into a building, and then him throwing a car at the Parasite. At the end, two vans that he assumed belonged to DEO came and gave him something, which looked like what Kara used to defeat the Parasite.

Well, not looked like though, it was _exactly_ that. The creature blew up under his hands, which was where the footage ended. The screen went blank for a second before recommended videos popped up, all of them about him “saving the day.” He watched and read everything he could find, trying to get a picture of his life. At first, he was only the “mysterious alien” that popped up whenever something alien-related came up. There was the Medusa virus that apparently he’d destroyed, Cadmus trying to send aliens into space, and even… Even Daxamites, his mother and father, attacking the city. In that one he wasn’t alone, though: Superman was with him, and after that attack he’d became an established superhero. A couple of weeks after that was the first time he was wearing a suit, along with the Legion ring. At first he didn’t understand how he could have it, but of course: Clark. He must’ve taken it from the Fortress of Solitude instead of Kara. His shoulders slumped at that realization as his finger swept over the ring. Not only he’d _lost_ Kara’s engagement ring—he noticed its absence when he first came home and it was neither around his neck or anywhere around the house—but now the Legion ring lost its meaning as well.

 _This isn’t Black Mercy fantasy at all. This is a nightmare_.

He could only watch the videos about him for so long. Seeing himself out there without anyone by his side, except for the occasional appearance of Superman, it reminded him too much of the previous year. Of… Of being utterly alone when he was out there, not just _physically_ but also _emotionally_. It was more than that, though. There were also interviews with Valor. Videos of him talking to civilians, waving at the reporters, smiling at children and hugging them, just like how he and Kara used to do before… He hadn’t been that person ever since he lost her, since the thought of pretending everything was okay had become unbearable.

It was around five p.m. when he stopped. He needed fresh air, desperately. He needed to clear his mind and start to think clearly, and he also needed something to eat, because despite the rush of the day, he was starting to feel the hunger of not eating anything since he woke up. He hadn’t eaten much the previous day either.

That was how he’d ended up in the park, after he ate two cheeseburger menus from Big Belly Burger. He hadn’t really tasted them; his mind was too full for that. Then he’d gone to the park and sat down, not wanting to go back to the house or DEO. He would eventually have to deal with the cause of this…this _change_ in his life, but he was _so exhausted_.

He couldn’t even mourn the death of his fiancée properly because of that change. It was… It was Kara’s death anniversary, and all he’d been doing since the morning was _running around_. There should’ve been mourning ceremonies that he could attend, or he could’ve gone to see her grave, or he could do something to honor her memory and make her proud. Or he could’ve spent the day in bed and pretend time didn’t exist. He shouldn’t have been here, not on a day like this.

The buzzing from his phone distracted him from his thoughts. Frowning, he reached inside his pocket and took it out. It was from Alex.

_My house. NOW. We have to talk._

He frowned at the text. He hadn’t talked with Alex since the morning, after he told her that he was in a hallucination and flew away from DEO. A part of him wanted to tell her he couldn’t come, that he needed time, but what would sitting there accomplish him? Besides, he had to move, he had to do something, or else… Or else he’d lose himself just when he needed to be in the right mind. He needed to figure out what was going on and fix it. If Alex was a part of it…

He texted her, telling her he’d be there in ten minutes, before he stood up and made his way to the woman’s apartment.

* * *

**_18:09_ **

Alex opened the door at his first knock, as if she was waiting in front of it. Even before Mon-El entered he could see the fury in her eyes. She stepped back, albeit reluctantly, to let him in.

“So,” the Daxamite started as he walked, and then stopped to face her. “You wanted to talk to me?” He tucked his hands into his pockets.

Alex shut the door and turned to him, not missing a beat as she directly jumped into the topic. “What the _hell_ were you thinking?” she growled, stepping forward with her very familiar fiery gaze. Mon-El had been a target of that from time to time.

“About what?” he asked nonchalantly. Alex lifted her brows and eyed him incredulously before she started laughing. She shook her head.

“ _About what?_ Are you kidding me? As if you don’t know what this is about!” Pointing her finger to Mon-El’s chest, she closed the distance between them. “You told Kara who you are. You revealed to her that…that you are an _alien_! So I’m asking you again: What. Were. You. _Thinking_?”

“I was—“ he started, yet his voice trailed off. What was he going to say? That his Kara already knew about him? That Kara was his fiancée in real life? That they’ve been together for all those years before losing her so abruptly that when he saw her again, he couldn’t really think? Yeah, that would go real well. “I don’t know.” His shoulders slumped at the realization as he looked away.

“You don’t know? Mon-El, even _you_ can come up with a better excuse than that.” She stepped forward, getting all up his personal space. “And how about the other thing? The part where she is your _fiancée_? What about that?”  

“I wasn’t thinking, Alex!” Mon-El shot back, spreading his arms. “Okay? I’m… I’m sorry for what I did, but I wasn’t myself.”

“Yeah, I think we´ve established that,” Alex interrupted him and crossed her arms. He ignored her comment.

“So can we just let this go? Because I’ve had one of the longest days of my life, and it was already shitty before…before _everything_ happened.” _Losing the woman you love does that to you_. “I’m really not in the mood for this.” He stared at Alex for one more second before walking around her to reach the door. Her voice stopped her.

“Oh, no. You’re not getting off so easily.” Mon-El stopped reluctantly right in front of the door. “Because you know what Kara told me today? She told me she met with an alien in CatCo parking lot. She said he hugged her, and she actually _felt_ it. And, you know, that’s kind of a big deal for someone with invincible skin.” Alex’s eyes seared into his back as she continued. “And she said the alien was rambling something about you two knowing each other, even being _engaged_ —that was a good one, by the way—and she was so shocked and slightly freaked out that she couldn’t answer. And then she said the alien said his name was _Mon-El.”_ She stopped for a second. “Imagine my surprise when I heard that name.”

“Alex, I’m sorry—“ he began, but the agent cut him.

“No, Mon-El,” she said, her voice rising with anger at first, but then dropping. She continued softly. “I don’t _want_ an apology, I want _you_ to tell me what happened to you. And don’t tell me nothing happened. I _know_ something is wrong.” Mon-El shut his eyes and tried to gulp down the knot in his throat. It didn’t work.

 _Everything is wrong,_ he wanted to say. He wanted to say this life wasn’t real. He wanted to say that in his real life, he and Kara had been together until he _lost_ her. And he wanted to say that today was her death anniversary, and all he wanted to do was curl up under a blanket and cry until he couldn’t feel anything anymore, but instead he was in this…this twisted reality with no way out. And he wanted to say that he only went to see Kara because he was too tempted to see her, because seeing her for one second outstripped _every_ logical reason why he _shouldn’t_ do it, because he missed her so much that even one minute spent with her felt better than another eternity without her. But of course those would only confirm what Alex was already thinking: An alien has gotten into his head.

“I just had a lapse in judgment,” he whispered finally as he turned around. “I wasn’t… I wasn’t thinking before acting. I don’t know what has gotten into me. I’m sorry.” He lifted his head to look at Alex’s eyes. “I’ll fix it tomorrow, I promise. And I’ll… I’ll stay away from Kara. You don’t have to worry about that.” _Once I get out there won’t be a “her” to stay away from anyway_.

“Yes, you _are_ gonna stay away from Kara just as you’d promised,” Alex said with a voice that demanded no objection. “But that’s not what I was asking. We’ve been working together for five years now, Mon-El. I know what your lapse in judgment looks like. This isn’t it. It’s as if… It’s as if you’re not yourself. _Overnight_ you changed from being carefree and joyful to broody and sad. To go through that big of a change in a matter of hours… Something big must’ve happened, because it’s like…like someone took the you we knew and replaced you with another version.” Mon-El rolled his eyed.

“Alex, that’s ridi—“ he started, ready to dismiss the idea completely, when he stopped. His whole body froze as Alex’s words truly sank in. _Another version of me_ … Why hadn’t he thought about that before? He’d fixated so much on the idea that this whole thing was a hallucination that he didn’t consider… He didn’t consider any other possibilities, like multiverse or…

 _Time travel_.

Could that be it? Could he be in some other universe, or…or in another timeline? He remembered the alien he fought before all of this happened. He’d went through a portal-like thingy, a portal Winn assumed opened to another universe. Yet what if it wasn’t it? What if it was actually a time machine sort of thing? An opening to the past? Barry had once told them that to time travel a speedster would either need to run real fast or use something called tachyons or something. Now he didn’t think the alien had been a speedster, but it was still plausible that he might’ve found a way to do it without superspeed.

He could’ve altered the timeline, changed everything, and caused all of…this to happen.

“Oh my God,” he whispered numbly, not really feeling anything. He barely noticed Alex looking at him quizzically.

“Oh my God what?” she asked as Mon-El shook his head. He opened his mouth but no words left at first. He forced himself to pull himself together.

“I-I think I know what’s going on with me. With…this place.” He passed by Alex to walk to the door. The woman’s puzzled eyes followed him.

“Would you mind enlightening me a bit too?” she suggested, uncrossing her arms. Mon-El fumbled with her door, turned the lock at his second attempt and opened the door.

“I’ll tell you. I just—I need to check something, and I’ll tell you. I promise, okay?” Alex started to say something, but then it seemed like she gave up.

“Fine, okay,” she sighed. “But… Whatever you’re doing, be careful.” Mon-El nodded, and then he was out the door.

He didn’t even bother with his car, thinking he could just grab it later, and instead just flew to his house. His hands were shaking as he grabbed his laptop. Waiting for it to open was excruciating, especially since he could process everything way slower than a normal human. By the time the main screen popped up he was tapping his foot on the floor.

Without wasting time he opened Google and punched the date on the search engine. He hoped he remembered it right.

October 26th, 2015. The day Kara became Supergirl.

When results came up, he wasn’t expecting Supergirl’s name to pop up. Instead he went to the news. _Kara mentioned a plane crash_ , he thought. _A plane crash she prevented for Alex_. That was all he knew about that day; the specifics of Alex’s flight was lost to him. Yet a plane crash was bound to get people’s attentions.

He was right. It didn’t take him long to find a news article about a plane crash. His fingers were shaking as he opened the webpage, his eyes skimming through the article as fast as possible.

His blood went cold at the first sentence anyway. It was enough to explain everything, even without ignoring the fact that there was nobody saving the situation: _Plane crash in National City: 145 dead_.

The plane had crashed. There was no girl preventing the crash. There were no discussions about who she was. The plane just crashed because anyone stopped it. And since it was when Kara became Supergirl, as a ripple effect, everything that event caused had been altered as well. So much so that Kara _never_ became Supergirl.

This wasn’t a hallucination Mon-El was in. This wasn’t a dream or a nightmare. He wasn’t stuck anywhere. This was just another timeline, another version of events created by the alien he’d fought the other night.

The alien had gone back in time, to exactly 26th of October, 2015, and stopped Kara from becoming Supergirl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter should've cleared up some stuff, but if you still have some questions or don't understand anything, feel free to ask :)


	6. Fault

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!
> 
> Soooooo just a warning beforehand, this might actually be the most painful thing I've ever written in my _life_ , not even just this story. I'd advise you to read at your own risk, and maybe have a couple of tissues around.
> 
> In fact, it would be a good idea to prepare your tissues for every Sunday, because if I'm gonna be honest......it's not getting better anytime soon. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy this (and won't want to kill me afterwards)!

**21 st of March, 2021**

**_20:27_ **

Her hair was cascading down her head, spreading over the pillow and the mattress. Golden and brown, caramel and blond. The strands were curling around her cheeks, her shoulders, her neck; they were falling on her forehead and tangled around her temples. They were clinging to her skin, damp with sweat.

It was either the lights in the room, or their color seemed to be leached, leaving only a faint memory of how vibrant they’ve been. Mon-El wanted to reach to her face, push her hair back, letting their softness wrap around her fingers and brush his palm, letting the ends of it tingle the back of his hand. _She always complained about her hair getting in her eyes when she was Supergirl_. He wanted to push it away from her face to relieve her, just like he’d done all those times before when he watched her sleep and didn’t want her to wake up, yet…

Yet it wouldn’t matter anymore, would it? She couldn’t feel the hair on her face. She couldn’t wake up because of the discomfort. She couldn’t complain… She couldn’t complain about having her hair loose as she flew. She wouldn’t even be able to fly. She wouldn’t feel anything.

So what was the point? What was the point of pushing her hair away from her eyes? What was the point of tiptoeing around her to not wake her up? What was the point of pretending she was just asleep, that she’d eventually wake up? It would only hurt more at the end. As if it didn’t hurt enough already.

Of course, that was easier to think than do, because…because looking at Kara like this, as she lay on the cot in DEO’s med bay with her eyes closed, it was very easy to be convinced that she was only sleeping. And Mon-El wanted to believe that so badly. He wanted to believe the whole night had been nothing but a nightmare, and Kara would wake up eventually, laughing at them for worrying too much about her. Laughing at him for thinking she’d ever leave him. _I’m Supergirl_ , she’d say. _It’s gonna take a lot more than a kryptonite blade to take me down_.

Mon-El bit his lip to keep himself from crying, and instead fixed his eyes on Kara. He was sitting next to her, both of his hands wrapped around one of hers, holding it so, so tightly that his knuckles whitened. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her face. He couldn’t close them or look away. What if she turned out to be alive? What if her eyelids flickered, or her lips twitched, and he missed that? What if there was a chance to save her and it would be too late just because he wasn’t paying enough attention?

_How can you look so peaceful in death?_

“All the Dominators are gone?” Mon-El heard someone ask from behind him. From the sound of it he guessed it was J’onn. He didn’t know if the question was directed at him. He didn’t care. He didn’t even care about its answer. So what if the Dominators left? What if all of them were dead? It didn’t change anything, it didn’t bring Kara back, it didn’t…

It didn’t make anything better. Nothing made it better.

“Yeah. The spaceships are gone,” Winn answered softly, his voice tear-strained. He wasn’t the only one crying. Mon-El could hear repressed sobs filling the room, breaking the silence every now and then with short sniffs. Was it Barry, or Iris, or Felicity? Or was it one of the others? Maybe Cisco? But it was only guesswork. Everyone sounded the same when they cried. “They left a couple of minutes ago,” he continued explaining, as if it needed that.

“How did…” someone began asking with a hoarse voice. This time, Mon-El was sure it was Felicity. “How did this happen? How did she…” Mon-El almost felt grateful she didn’t finish the sentence.

“She was in the ship,” James started, his voice almost too low. “And she must’ve gotten stabbed. She was already dead by the time we found her.” His voice was cold, distant, as if he was reciting facts. Well, in fact, that was exactly what he was doing. Saying what had happened. Not… Not why it happened, or who did it. Mon-El knew his answer to Felicity’s question would be infinitely different.

_It was my fault_ , he’d say. _The Dominators were here to get revenge on us. Because we got rid of Rhea. It was because of me she was there. I killed her._

_I killed her_.

Kara’s face blurred in front of him as his eyes filled with tears. He almost couldn’t breathe as he looked at her. There was a huge knot lodged in his throat, blocking the airway. He didn’t want to breathe anyway. He didn’t deserve that, not when… Not when Kara was gone. Not when she was only in that spaceship because of him. Not when she would’ve been so much better off without him.

At the very least she would’ve been alive. And if he knew Kara Zor-El, Mon-El knew that as long as she was alive she’d find a way to be happy. If he hadn’t stripped that choice away from her completely.

“This isn’t fair,” Jesse whispered. “She was the strongest of us all, and she was just starting her life with…” Her voice trailed off, yet still the incomplete sentence twisted the knife that was already sunk in Mon-El’s stomach. “It isn’t fair.”

_No, it isn’t. It should’ve been me._

Why hadn’t he stopped her when she went for the most protected spaceship? Why hadn’t he gone up to help her the moment he realized something was wrong? Why wasn’t he there for her when she needed it the most?

_It should’ve been me._

He wished he could trade places with her. He wished he was the one lying on the cot, he was the one that died instead of her. It was so much better than a life without her in it. A life, full of empty years and days stretched out in front of him. It used to feel too short, to only have a lifetime with Kara, yet now those days stretched into weeks, into years in front of him. It felt so long. Too long. A forever without her. How would he go through that? How could he survive that? Death was… It was infinitely better than even the thought of forever.

_It’s my fault. It’s my fault. It’s my fault._

The words spun around in his head, cycling again and again, until it was too overwhelming and he felt the weight of them crushing him down. His breath hitched in his throat as a tear slipped down his cheek. He didn’t even bother to wipe it away. Not only he was too exhausted for that, but it would also mean he’d have to let Kara’s hand go. He wasn’t sure he was ready for that.

“Life is rarely fair,” Harry broke the silence. Mon-El saw him walking to Jesse’s side from the corner of his eyes. “It has a tendency to take away the best of people, because they’re the ones fighting fair. And in real life, cheaters always win.” Those words constricted Mon-El’s heart _. She is—was too good for this world_ , he couldn’t help thinking. He just never thought…

He never thought that would mean she’d leave it.

_It should’ve been me_.

A commotion rose behind him in a matter of seconds, footsteps rushing into the room. Mon-El didn’t bother to look back and see who it was. It was probably some DEO agent giving J’onn the latest update or—

“Where’s she?” The voice rang around the room as all of Mon-El’s muscles froze. Dread knotted his already sick stomach.

_Alex_. It was Alex.

“Where’s Kara…?” Her voice trailed off as Mon-El felt, rather than saw, her approach the bed. Her steps were slow, deliberate, as if she was afraid to see the bed, afraid to accept the truth of what she must’ve heard. Mon-El locked his chin and shut his eyes, bowing his head. He didn’t want to look at the agent. He couldn’t see the look on her face, the pain flickering in her eyes, the anguish apparent on her features. He didn’t want to see how much she must be hurting. Shame and guilt churned in his heart as he squeezed Kara’s hand, just like he’d do all those times he was distressed, desperately needing her support. If only she could squeeze his hand back.

_It should’ve been me_.

How was he ever going to look at Alex in the eye again? How was he going to face her knowing he was the reason her sister was dead? Knowing she’d be alive if it wasn’t for him? Knowing in the end he’d ruined everything all over again, just like he always did? Alex shouldn’t have been going through this— _Nobody_ should be going through this.

“It’s your fault.” It took Mon-El a couple of seconds to realize it wasn’t his mind repeating those words. Before he could open his eyes, before he could even process what was going on, two hands wrapped around the collar of his shirt and pulled him up. He was too shocked to resist as the hands dragged him through the room and slammed him into a wall. He barely felt the impact—it was way too weak for his alien physiology—yet it still hit him hard enough in the heart. When he opened his eyes, he found himself face to face with a very, very furious Alex.

“It’s your fault!” she yelled at him, her voice shaking with unshed tears. Her fingers tightened around his collar. “You brought those Dominators here, you forced her to go out and fight them. If it wasn’t for you she would’ve been alive!” She clenched her teeth, her lips quivering.

“Alex!” someone said, someone that sounded like J’onn, as everyone rushed to their side. “Alex, let him go,” he continued, attempting to grab her arm. She fervently pushed his hand away.

“How can you ask me to do that? He did this to us. He did this to _my sister_.”

“You know that’s not true.” J’onn’s voice was soft as he answered. Alex turned her glare from Mon-El to him. “It was the Dominators that killed her, Alex, not Mon-El. He loved her just as much as all of us, if not more.”

“Well, then he should’ve done a better job at protecting her,” the agent spat out, turning her eyes back to the Daxamite. Her lips curled into a snarl. “You let her die. If she never knew you, if you stayed the hell away from her she’d have been alive. It’s your fault.” She stopped for a second, breathing heavily. “It should’ve been you.”

Mon-El felt someone clawing at his heart, ripping it to shreds second by second. He couldn’t say anything to Alex as an answer. He couldn’t defend himself, he… He didn’t want to defend himself. There was nothing to defend. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t been thinking those exact same things, yet hearing them from Alex’s lips… It all felt too overwhelming. He couldn’t take it, he couldn’t take it anymore. It hurt too much, way too much, and there was nothing he could do to ease his pain. Kara was gone. So suddenly she was ripped away from his life, slipped through his fingers and went away, as if she didn’t know her departure would break him irrevocably. And the worst part was that it was all his doing.

Mon-El felt his resolve weakening with each passing second, getting closer and closer to completely breaking down, and he knew he couldn’t stay in the room. He couldn’t look at Kara’s body anymore. He couldn’t face Alex’s eyes. He couldn’t feel anyone’s pity. He needed to be alone. He should be alone.

“It’s my fault,” he croaked, his shoulders slumping. “I’m—I’m so sorry.” That was all he could say before he rushed out of the room.

* * *

**_20:51_ **

Mon-El’s knees gave out the moment he entered the training room, the whole world spinning around him. It was already hard to see his surroundings because of the endless amount of tears filling his eyes, no matter how many of them slipped down his cheeks, but that coupled with the tightness in his chest and gut wrenching feeling in his stomach… It was a miracle he even made it to the training room, especially thinking he didn’t even know where he was going when he rushed out of med bay. He only knew he had to get away. He had to be alone.

Well, not alone exactly. He needed Kara. He needed her to be with him so, so desperately. To wrap her arms around his shoulders. To stroke his hair and pull him to her chest, telling him she was with him, that everything was going to be okay. He needed to hear she’d never leave him alone, ever. Yet there were no arms to hold him now, were there? Not anymore.

_And whose fault is that?_

He pressed his back to the wall, covering his mouth with the back of his hand to stop himself from breaking down into sobs. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. All he could do was _feel_ , and all he felt was _pain_. It hurt _too much_. He… He thought about it before, of course. The severity of the situation. He’d seen his world get destroyed while he could do nothing but watch. He saw everyone he loved die. He knew what it was like. Yet… Yet it felt like the whole situation didn’t really hit him until Alex barged into the room. He didn’t really realize what Kara’s death meant. He didn’t realize how…how _final_ it was. He was young, only at his early thirties, and in addition to that Kryptonians’ and Daxamites’ life span was different on earth than humans. Kara had mentioned once that they aged more slowly, which would mean he had at least 100 years more to live. 100 years, 36,500 days, and…and how many hours? He didn’t even want to know. And all of them would be spent without Kara. Without…Without this beautiful and strong woman by his side. He would never see her again. He wouldn’t hear her laugh or see her smile. She wouldn’t be there to punch him in the arm when he said something wrong. She wouldn’t correct him when he misspelled something. She wouldn’t talk to him through their comms when they were out superheroing. She wouldn’t cuddle with him on the couch as they were watching a TV show, wrapping a blanket around them. She wouldn’t steal his notepad as he tried to take notes about an episode, and scribble random words. She wouldn’t take his plaid shirts and wear them around the house, or in rare occasions while going to the DEO as well. She wouldn’t mumble songs around the house, or sing to him. All those little things that he never thought about before, that he didn’t appreciate, would be gone now. He’d gotten so used to them after some point that he didn’t realize how _special_ they were. Kara was…

She was in every single part of his life. He woke up to her either still asleep next to him on the bed, or with the smell of breakfast and coffee coming from the kitchen. She’d kiss him on the lips before she left for work, just as he settled down on the couch to watch a TV show. If he were to go to a movie they would head out together since the movie theater was on the way to CatCo. Then she’d grab his arm and reach up, planting a small kiss on his cheek before saying goodbye. In any case Mon-El would watch her leave, a small smile playing on his lips, before he went on with his business.

Sometimes, if Kara was available and he didn’t have much work to do, they’d go out to get lunch together. Or sometimes it would be Mon-El bringing her lunch, especially if she would be holed up inside, just like…just like he’d done earlier today. Those were special times for them, since it didn’t happen too often. If they didn’t have work to do as Kara Danvers and Mike Matthews, they’d have to go out as Supergirl and Valor to save the day.

Once that was done they’d both go home, whether it was at 5 p.m. on a quiet day in National City, or 8 p.m. and even later if they were needed at the DEO. After dinner they’d either read books together, Kara curled up on the couch and Mon-El sitting on the armchair, or they’d cuddle on the couch to watch a movie, or if they had time they’d bake some dessert and eat it with a cup of wine. If they weren’t tired—and they were feeling fancy—sometimes they’d even go out on a date for dinner. Though Mon-El had to admit, the best nights they’d spend together were those that they sat on the couch and talked about everything and nothing at the same time. How each others’ days were, how Kara’s story made the first page, how the new TV show Savanna asked Mon-El to review was yet another cliché high school drama that Mon-El was starting to get utterly bored with. They’d laugh, and Kara would tuck the strands of her hair that escaped her hair tie behind her ears, reminding him that there was a reason clichés were clichés: Because they were _good_. Mon-El would argue, saying that good or bad people should strive for something new other than repeating the same things over and over again. They’d never agree on that topic, as Kara, who thought every single cheesy TV trope was cute, would never accept Mon-El’s apprehension for them. And Mon-El, despite enjoying the cheesy scenes himself, would never admit that to Kara.

Now how he wished he would’ve said that. How those scenes made him smile too. How those love stories reminded him of their relationship. How he liked to think he was Kara’s “endgame,” just like all those couples that ended up together and didn’t break up. He’d never thought…

He’d never thought he’d be losing her. Ever. She was… She was such a crucial part of his life that it was hard to imagine it without her. If someone asked him to describe his daily routine… Those moments with her would be what he’d describe. The little touches, quiet promises, flashing smiles, gazes that shared silent words, deep discussions and small talks. He couldn’t… He couldn’t believe all of that could be gone now, just like… _that_. How would he live his life now? What would be his daily routine? How was he ever going to adjust his life around it?

Did he really _want_ to?

He knew the answer before he even thought about it. No, he didn’t. Ever. He didn’t want to think of a day without her, let alone a _lifetime_.

He slid down to the floor, his cape bunching up behind him. By that time it was impossible to keep his sobs down. His body was shaking all over as he rested his elbows on his knees, running his fingers through his hair. He barely felt it. There was so much pain, so much hurt. She was gone, _she was gone_ , and he couldn’t breathe. The weight on his shoulders was crushing him down, down, down, and he didn’t know how to escape. He didn’t want that. He wanted to let it crush him, let it break every single bone in his body, let it squash his heart underneath. He wanted to suffer because he deserved it. He deserved every single bit of pain he was feeling, and much, much more of it. He deserved to _die_.

_It should’ve been me_.

He noticed that someone had come into the room only when that person sat down next to him. He didn’t even bother to look up and see who it was, at least not until he felt a hand on his shoulder. Its grip was steady, despite Mon-El not feeling much of it.

“Hey,” the person said next to him. The Daxamite barely heard it with the sobs shattering him apart, yet he could recognize the voice.

Oliver Queen.

Covering his eyes with his hand, Mon-El ducked his chin and tried to take a steady breath, yet it was impossible. Air just got hitched at his throat and burned it as if he’d just swallowed fire.

“I can’t,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “Oliver, I can’t. I can’t do this.” He wasn’t even sure how he was speaking, how he was getting the words out, considering he didn’t even feel his lips moving. He only heard the words, and even that was faint.

He briefly expected Oliver to interrupt him, to tell him it wasn’t true and that he would get through this, yet he just stayed silent with his hand on Mon-El’s shoulder. It was almost like he was letting Mon-El speak. So he continued; whether it was because he needed to get the words out or they came out on their own since there was someone listening, he didn’t know. He just continued.

“She’s gone. She’s… She’s dead, and it’s my fault. I-I should’ve been there fo-for her. I should’ve hel-helped her, _protected_ her.” He shook his head, stopping because of the emotions clogging his throat. He ran his hand over his face and then curled it into a fist, his nails digging into his skin. “I can’t live without her. I can’t, I… I don’t want to. It hurts too much, and I… I just want it to _end_.” The last word came out as barely a whisper. “She shouldn’t have died. She—She deserved much better than that, much better than… _me_. If we’d never met…” _She would’ve been alive. She would’ve been fine_. “It should’ve been me. Not her. It… It should’ve been _me_.” With the last word a sob escaped his lips and shook his body. He buried his head to his hand and cried, cried, cried, letting the sobs and the tears wreck his body. He cried until his lungs hurt from crying, until his throat was burning, until his cheeks were soaked with tears. He cried even after that, letting it all out and not wanting to stop, welcoming the pain and agony and despair, welcoming every single horrible feeling he could think of and letting them destroy him, just like he’d destroyed Kara. Just like he took her life away from her, he let his feelings claw him from inside and hollow him out, taking away everything that made him… _him_ , if anything was left now that Kara was gone.

Oliver stayed by his side through all that, just…just watching. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t speak. He just held Mon-El’s shoulder, squeezing it from time to time, and just…stayed. He didn’t tell Mon-El that it wasn’t his fault. He didn’t tell him he didn’t deserve to die. He didn’t tell him that, no matter how hard it might seem right now, in time it’d get better and it would be okay. In a way Mon-El was _glad_ he didn’t say any of that, and weeks later he’d realize why it had been Oliver that came to see him and not one of the others. Oliver had lost too many people in his life to know exactly how the death of a loved one could crush someone. He’d know none of those words would mean anything to Mon-El, he’d know those weren’t what he needed to hear. Oliver would know he just needed someone to be there so that despite feeling utterly lonely inside, at least he wouldn’t be alone.

Mon-El didn’t remember much about that night after he left the med bay. He remembered going into the training room. He remembered crying. He remembered the unbearable pain spreading from his chest throughout his body, slowly poisoning him. Yet other than that he could only assume what happened. He’d assume it was Oliver that pulled him up after he fell too exhausted from crying and carried him to a spare room in the DEO. He’d assume it was J’onn that prepared a bed for him. He’d assume it was Barry that brought him clothes that he found by his bedside when he woke up. And he’d assume it was one of the members of team Flash or Arrow that put a blanket on him; he hadn’t really seen who it had been. And he’d assume he directly fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, because he knew there would be no way for him to sleep if he had time to think about everything that had happened. But of course, they would all be assumptions. He’d never know what really happened.

He knew it didn’t matter.

* * *

**22 nd of March, 2021**

**_12:36_ **

Mon-El had never planned a funeral. He never really had to, not even when he was on Daxam. Before… Before the planet’s destruction, he’d only attended to one funeral, and he was barely a child then. Besides, he didn’t even know the person that died; it was apparently some rich woman that provided a lot of money to the kingdom. As far as he remembered, his parents had only attended to honor the woman’s family and continue to get what they wanted from them. He was only six then, and he had no idea what was going on even as the body was buried to the ground right in front of his eyes. And afterwards…

Afterwards the only person he’d truly lost was his father. Yes, of course they’d prepared a funeral for him even if they didn’t have a body, but it wasn’t anything official. It was something they did among themselves for him, so that he could mourn his father’s death and honor him. Even then he wasn’t really involved in the preparation part. It was something he never tried to learn about earth. He never thought he’d need it.

Until now. Now he’d needed to plan a funeral for…for someone very special, someone who deserved to be honored in the best way possible, and he had _no idea_ how he was going to do it.

He needed Kara with him. He desperately needed her to stand up, take his hand and lead the way, show him how funerals work just as she’d taught all those earthly customs. No, not even that. He wanted her to wake up so that he wouldn’t have to plan a funeral at all. Yet no matter how long he stared at her body, no matter how much he willed her to wake up—as if she somehow would if he just wanted it enough—she still laid there, her hands on her stomach, her cape spread underneath her and hanging from one side, and her hair fanned out around her head on the cot with some strands falling from the back of the cot like a golden waterfall.

She still looked too peacefully beautiful to be dead.

He reached forward absentmindedly, without even realizing what he was doing, to push Kara’s hair that has fallen on her cheek away from her face. His fingertips brushed her cheek briefly, and he felt a shudder go through his body. Her skin was still so, so soft, looked so alive if you ignored the details, that it would be way too easy to believe she was sleeping.

He couldn’t help himself as he dropped his fingers to her hair, slowly stroking it, letting them tangle between the strands. They still shone under the bright white light, albeit somewhat duller. He closed his eyes to remember how they’d looked in the morning, when light seeped into their bedroom through a crack between the curtains and illuminated her hair. She had the most beautiful hair he’d ever seen in his life. Naturally bright and warm, just like…just like sunshine. Whenever he woke up before her, he liked to just watch her for a couple of moments, entranced by his beauty, and wonder how he’d manage to get so lucky. He’d stroke her hair very softly so that she wouldn’t wake up, and it would sparkle with all the shades of gold and brown. He could watch her all day like that…or at least until her alarm rang and she had to wake up.

“Mon-El?” The Daxamite slipped away from his thoughts and opened his eyes with the voice coming from behind him. He quickly wiped his tears before he turned around, coming face-to-face Barry, Caitlin, Oliver, and Felicity. They must’ve come recently as he hadn’t seen them in the morning.

He wondered if the smile on his face looked as sour and fake as he felt.

“Hey.” Before he could do anything, Caitlin stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him into a tight hug—at least tight for a human. Mon-El didn’t even have the energy to hug her back.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, rubbing his shoulder. She rested her chin there. “Eight years ago, I’ve lost my fiancé too, before all the…metahuman craziness started. And it’s still the most painful thing I’ve gone through.” She pulled back, squeezing his arm soothingly. “I wish this never happened to you. Both you and Kara… You deserved better.”

_Yeah_ , Mon-El thought. _She did deserve better. I’m not sure about me_. He couldn’t find his voice to say the words, so instead he nodded, his fists clenched at his sides. He ducked his chin and looked away.

“Mon-El,” Barry started a couple of seconds later, stepping forward. “Are you sure it’s… Are you sure you should be here now?” Mon-El couldn’t help snorting as he looked back at Kara.

“Yeah, that’s what J’onn said,” he admitted. And… And when he thought about that, maybe J’onn had been right. None of the others was here. Alex hadn’t showed up; apparently she was at home with Maggie, who called DEO to say the agent wouldn’t be coming. Winn was absent as well, his usual spot in the DEO empty. James was… He was somewhere. As far as Mon-El had heard from J’onn he didn’t go to his work at CatCo, nor was he answering his house phone or cellphone.

Mon-El wondered briefly whether Kara’s boss was informed that the Kryptonian was dead. If not, then… Then he’d have to let Snapper know. And there was also the matter with _Supergirl_. Would they go public with her death? What would National City think if she just stopped showing up to save the day? Would they think she abandoned them? Mon-El wouldn’t be able to stand that, to hear someone like Kara could turn her back to people in need of help. National City had to know that their hero sacrificed herself for them. Kara at least deserved to be remembered well.

“I just had to see her,” Mon-El began to explain, turning to Kara. He could feel other’s eyes on him, yet he didn’t bother to look back. “We need to… We have so much to do. There’s—There’s the funeral. We have to plan a funeral for her. We need to ma-make a list of people to invite and inform them. We have to find a…a venue, and get the body prepared. And I… I need to write a eulogy for her. I think. I don’t even…” His voice trailed off as he struggled to keep himself together. He couldn’t break apart, not now. “And I—I have to call CatCo to-to inform them about her death, or else Snapper will be so angry at her and I don’t… You know, she deserves better than that. And—And then there’s Supergirl, because we…we have to make a public announcement or…something. Tell them that… Tell them that Su-Supergirl have died fighting f-for the city, and…” His rambling stopped as tears filled his eyes again. Desperation was looming over him, threatening fall over him and plunge him into darkness any moment. How was he going to handle with any of that all on his own?

“Hey, hey Mon-El, stop,” Barry interjected when he realized the Daxamite was on the verge of tears, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You don’t have to do all of that immediately. You can take a—“

“ _No_ ,” Mon-El objected. “No, I—I have to. That’s what Kara deserves, that’s what… That’s what she would’ve wanted. And… And Alex and Winn are holed up at their houses, and who knows where James is, and she… She deserves someone to properly mourn her. I have to… I have to do this for her.” He clamped his mouth shut when his voice started shaking, yet there was no stopping the trembling of his lips. Actually no, his whole body was trembling all over.

“She would’ve wanted you to take care of yourself,” Felicity said softly. “She would’ve understood.” Mon-El’s shoulders slumped with those words as his eyes searched Kara’s face.

“Yeah,” he confessed, knowing how true Felicity’s words were. “Because she’s just… I mean, she _was_ just that good.” Even that one word cracked his heart. “But she also— She believed in me, believed I was strong, that I… I was strong enough to not give up no matter what happened and how _hard_ life got. I can’t just… I can’t just give up now and prove her wrong. It’s not… It wouldn’t be fair for her, after _everything_ she’s done for me.” He took a shuddered breath. “I can’t… I can’t just let her down like this. Even if I have to do this alone.” _Even if I don’t know how to do this alone_.

Although he didn’t voice the last sentence, the group behind him seemed to have gotten the idea. It was Barry that spoke up first. “You won’t have to,” he assured Mon-El, looking at his friends. “We’ll help you. With the funeral, CatCo, National City, all of it. You won’t be alone.”

“No,” Caitlin agreed, softly putting her hand on his arm. “We’re here for you, okay? Central City and Star City will have to deal with not having heroes for a couple of days. Right, guys?” Everyone in the room nodded, agreeing with her, and Mon-El felt the weight on his shoulders lessen, even if it was only slightly. At least the burden of being alone in all of this was gone. At least now he didn’t have to worry about failing and messing it all up.

“Thank you,” he could only whisper, looking up at each of them one by one. “I don’t know…” He didn’t have the words to continue, yet everyone seemed to understand what he was talking about anyway.

With Oliver’s gesture, all of them left the room shortly after, giving him and Kara privacy. Felicity and Caitlin had given him another hug, while Barry and Oliver patted him on the back. The fact that Mon-El barely felt their touch had nothing to do with his strength or invincible skin. He didn’t look away from Kara to see them walk out and shut the door.

The room then fell to an almost unbearable silence for a couple of seconds before Mon-El forced a smile, pulled a chair next to her and sat down. “See how many people you’ve inspired, Kara?” he whispered. “They all loved you… They _love_ you so much. You’re loved _so much_.” He cleared his throat. “I just… I wanted you to know that, if you can hear me.” Mon-El had never been the religious person, not really thinking about the meaning of God, death, or afterlife, yet at that moment he wished with all of his heart for _afterlife_ to exist. For Kara to actually be there, listening to him from above and smiling at him. It was much, much better than thinking there might be nothing left of her.

He gently picked up her hand from the cot and brought it to his lips, putting a small kiss on all of her fingertips one by one before lacing his fingers through hers. His finger brushed a cold bump on them. He frowned and looked at her hand to see what it was.

The engagement ring.

He felt his breath hitch in his throat when he saw that. He was frozen, her hand limply resting in his, just…just staring at the ring. It carried so much meaning behind it. It was… It was a symbol of their happiness, of making it work after all the years of hardships, of being together, and the promise of a future. Now… Now all of that was taken from them. It was as if somebody had hollowed out the stone as well, just like they’d done with him.

With trembling fingers he slid the ring off of her finger, looking at the stone. It sparkled white under the lights, so…so _pure_. He couldn’t find anything else to describe it. It looked so pure, and so beautiful, that it was amazing how much it hurt him. A part of him wanted to fling it to the other side of the room and never look at it again, yet he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He couldn’t bring himself to throw away something that once meant so much to him and Kara.

Besides, who could blame him if he took the ring with him, put a chain around it, wore it around his neck, and that night slept in the room at the DEO with one hand wrapped around it?


	7. Valor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all!
> 
> So, this chapter doesn't have much Karamel in it, it's more of an "explainer" I guess you could call it that clears up some stuff about the changed world. If you're confused by anything at the end, please feel free to ask your questions!
> 
> I hope you like this!

**22 nd of March, 2022**

**_09:12_ **

Mon-El felt completely exhausted even after sleeping for about 12 hours. But it wasn’t the sort of tiredness that came from sleeping too little, staying up too late, or waking up too early. It didn’t come from a harsh workout or an especially hard superhero mission. He’d experienced those many times before. They were rarely accompanied by hollowness and…and a lack of purpose. He could still be happy, still smile and laugh, still enjoy life around him then. Now he felt _mentally_ exhausted, like someone sucked all the energy from his soul.

Not that it was any better than the previous year. Had there even _been_ a day he didn’t feel tired?

Adjusting his glasses, he pressed the elevator button, waiting for it to come. There were a couple of DEO agents in the lobby that gave him weird looks, as if wondering why he was using the elevator and not just flying up, yet he just ignored all of them. If he was lucky none of them would remember it anyway. It would be like the previous day never happened.

 _You were the one that wanted 21 st of March to not exist_. He almost laughed with the thought as the elevator doors opened. He quickly stepped in, tucking his hands in his pockets. A woman entered right after him.

“Hey, Mon-El,” she chirped happily, making him look up. She pulled her blond braid in front of her and let it fall down her shoulder. “I didn’t expect to see you here. I thought you _never_ used elevators.”

“Dana?” Mon-El said bewilderedly, looking at the woman in jeans and a red t-shirt. She had a white jacket around her shoulders and a bag hanging from her arm, with a hand resting on her stomach. Her big…belly. Mon-El’s brows shot up. “You’re _pregnant_?” Dana glanced at him incredulously like he just grew another head.

“Um, yeah. For five months now. Why do you look so surprised?” Mon-El opened his mouth to say that the Dana he knew didn’t even have a boyfriend, but then stopped. Of course, Dana from the previous timeline and from _this_ timeline were two different people. His shoulders slumped as he shrugged.

“I’m not. I’m just…a bit tired, I guess.” He flashed her a smile that he hoped looked real.

“Yeah, I can see that.” She seemed genuinely worried as she leaned forward to look at his eyes. “Is everything okay?” _No_.

“Yes.” He cleared his throat, hoping the shakiness in his voice wasn’t audible. “I guess I just had a long night.” _Long year, more like_. “I’m gonna be fine after a cup of coffee.” Dana’s eyes narrowed with those words, suspicion flickering in them, which made Mon-El think that maybe coffee wasn’t the right choice of beverage. Fortunately they arrived at their floor then so that he could escape Dana’s questioning.

“Have a nice day,” he muttered under his breath as he scrambled out. He only faintly heard Dana muttering a “you too” under her breath, confusion splashed on her face.

Mon-El quickly made his way through the corridors to J’onn’s office, hoping that the Martian was there. He needed to get the words off of his chest as soon as possible, preferably before they crushed him down, and…

And who better to tell than J’onn, who could read his mind and confirm he wasn’t making everything up? Because, well, time travel… No matter which way you looked at it, sounded ludicrous.

He knew, the moment he found out about what the overcoat-villain (that was what Mon-El had been calling him) did, he wouldn’t be able to handle it alone. Time travel was way out of his territory. The limited experience he had with it came from Barry and the Legends team, and even then he’d never really time travelled or…or tried to fix a time aberration, if that was what they’d called it. He had no idea how the guy found a way to go back in time, how he’d changed it, or where he was now. Finding him… It would be hard, considering he also didn’t know who the guy was either. Without help he might never be able to fix what happened, and that…

He couldn’t have that. He couldn’t _let himself_ have that.

So… J’onn it would be, as he would probably be the only one to truly believe him. Fortunately, in this timeline, his office hadn’t changed, and Mon-El found it easily. He saw the Martian sitting inside through the glass door, going through what looked like some files. Softly knocking, he pushed the door open.

“Hey.” J’onn looked up with his voice, confusion flickering in his eyes.

“Mon-El?”

“Yeah,” Mon-El said, clearing his throat. “Can I… Can I come in?” He pointed inside. J’onn’s eyes traveled on him for a brief second, as if searching for something, before he nodded. He let out a chuckle as Mon-El shut the door behind him.

“You actually knocked the door before you barged in this time. That’s an improvement,” he teased, putting some files aside. Mon-El’s steps halted for a brief moment, his brows knitting.

“I used to do that?” he muttered under his breath, more to himself than J’onn. Well, he used to do that before…before Kara died too, just to annoy the Martian, but it felt like it’d been such a long time since then. To him, at least. J’onn probably didn’t even remember that. Taking a deep breath, Mon-El shook his head and changed the subject. “But that… That’s not important.” He scratched his cheek. “I need your help.”

J’onn didn’t say anything at first, eyeing him suspiciously, before telling him to sit down. “Alex mentioned you haven’t been acting like yourself,” he started, resting his elbows on the table and clasping his hands together. “Is everything okay?” Mon-El plopped down on the chair, his fingers curling into fists in his pockets, and shook his head.

“No,” he whispered, and that might’ve been the most honest thing he’d said the whole morning. J’onn stayed silent and let him continue. “I’m… I’ll tell you what’s going on, but all I’m asking is for you to listen to me till the end before you say anything. Because it’s gonna… It’s gonna sound really crazy, and insane, and unbelievable, bust just please— _please_ listen.” He took out his hands from his pockets and looked at his open palms. There were nail marks on them.

“Okay,” J’onn agreed after a second of silence. “Okay, I’ll listen. What’s going on?” Mon-El inhaled deeply, trying to calm his stretched nerves.

“There’s a reason I haven’t been acting like myself. At least… At least for you.” A nervous laugh burst out of his throat before he could help it. He shook his head. “Because I don’t belong in this world. None of us does, actually.” J’onn lifted his brow suspiciously. Mon-El leaned forward and rubbed his forehead before continuing. “Well, not exactly world, but…but time.”

“Mon-El, that doesn’t make sense—“ J’onn interjected, but stopped when Mon-El looked up.

“J’onn, I know this sounds ridiculous but please just listen.” He straightened up and ran his fingers through his hair. “Look, two days ago I fought against an alien that…that went through a portal…something… _thingy_. I didn’t think much of it then but yesterday I woke up in—in this _world_ that is completely different. At first I though I was in a hallucination, but…” He gathered his courage to look up at J’onn. “But now I’m not sure. I think… I think that the portal that alien went through, it was some sort of a time-travel machine, and he…he changed the timeline.” The Martian didn’t say anything for a while, just gaping at Mon-El. He laughed a couple of seconds after that.

“You mean _time-travel_?” he asked jokingly, but his laugh died immediately when Mon-El’s serious face didn’t change. “You were serious.”

“I _am_ serious.” Silence stretched between them as J’onn searched Mon-El’s face, looking for…what, Mon-El really didn’t want to know. He inhaled deeply. “I’m not crazy or making things up, J’onn. I wish I was. I wish the last year has never happened and I never lost…” His voice trailed off as he a pang of unexpected pain hit him in the chest. Closing his eyes he tried to repress it. “But it is. And we have to fix this sooner rather than later, before it becomes permanent or it causes some…some damage.” Hadn’t Barry mentioned that changing the timeline could have unpredictable consequences?

J’onn opened his mouth, starting to say something, but then he changed his mind. He shook his head. “I want to believe you,” he started, leaning forward. “But time travel is… We’ve been fighting with aliens for years now, and we haven’t encountered anyone that was capable of that. Are you sure your memories are correct? And this _alien_ you were talking about, are you sure they didn’t mess with your mind instead? Planting false memories?”

“Look into my mind,” Mon-El changed the subject, ignoring J’onn’s words. He rested his elbow on the desk. “Look into my mind, J’onn.”

“Mon-El—“

“No, please, just do it. And you’ll see. You’ll see I’m telling the truth.” His voice shook with helplessness as he clenched his fists to pull himself together. “You know I wouldn’t ask you to do this if I wasn’t sure of myself.” J’onn looked like reading Mon-El’s mind was the last thing he wanted to do, yet something in the Daxamite’s eyes must’ve convinced him. He reluctantly gave up, his shoulders slumping, and concentrated. Mon-El felt a slight pain shooting through his mind, yet it was gone in a second. And then J’onn was in his mind.

A parade of memories flashed through his eyes as the Martian skimmed through them one by one. Memories of his childhood, when he was on Daxam. Growing up as the prince. All of the shameful things he’d done that he wished he forgot. Fortunately J’onn didn’t spend much time on that and instead focused on his life after he’d woken up on earth. His first memory on this strange planet, waking up to see Kara leaning over him, feeling terrified and running away. And then there was the fight with Kara, and then her telling him about Daxam. His first and only day at CatCo as Mike Matthews. Drinking with Kara in the alien bar and getting her drunk. Training with her. Realizing, day after day, how horrible he’d been, and deciding to change it. Kissing Kara when he was on his deathbed, and lying about it, and then confessing his feelings when he failed at his first attempt to be a superhero. And then the emotional rollercoaster that came after that as he and Kara tried to find their ways back to each other, suffering through Mr. Mxyzptlk, his parents and his lies, and at the end finally forming a strong and unbreakable bond that ended in a stable long-term relationship. He remembered moving in with her in her apartment, he remembered telling her he wanted to be a TV and movie critic. He remembered Kara showing him the way to become one. He remembered her getting her job at CatCo back and both of them celebrating it. He remembered the first review he’s ever posted online, and the relief he felt when it got a lot of positive regard. He remembered getting his job at Gemm. He remembered… He remembered proposing to Kara, her smiling at him with happy tears in her eyes as she said yes. He remembered all the little things they did together, like cooking and reading and watching TV, waking up together and sleeping together, their calls and text messages and the range of emojis they sent each other, everything that made his life better in every way. And then everything changed as he remembered her death.

His chest squeezed with agony when that came up, his eyes shutting close. He saw her fall into his arms all over again with that kryptonite knife. He remembered sitting by her side in the med bay. He remembered crying, and crying, and crying, with every single sob stealing a piece of his soul. He remembered preparing her body for the funeral and writing a eulogy, and he remembered the spectacular failure that _was_ the funeral. He remembered the days after that, all the drinking and trying to forget, until he managed to pull himself together for her and tried to put his life back into place. He remembered the hollowness in his chest that never seemed to go away, that was still there, and the bleak life he led. He remembered the last day, the alien he fought, before he ended up here, and he remembered Kara’s first death anniversary, which had been one of the hardest days of his life. And considering the previous year, that said something.

Then the slideshow ended and his eyes flickered open. He could feel the wetness of tears clinging to his lashes. Blinking, he quickly got rid of it, his eyes finding J’onn’s. The Martian looked absolutely appalled, as if whatever he’d seen had made his blood run cold. Mon-El gulped before he turned his eyes to his hands, feeling completely sick to the stomach. All those memories that haunted him every day and yet others that he didn’t even know he remembered… It was like pouring salt on a wound that hadn’t even begun healing. He didn’t know it would be this painful, but seeing those memories only reminded him yet again how happy he and Kara been, and how that was taken from them so suddenly and unfairly.

“Now you believe me?” he managed to croak after a couple of seconds with a shaky voice.

“Mon-El…” J’onn started as if he didn’t know what to say. “Those were—“

“My memories. _Real_ memories.” He would never believe the life he had with Kara wasn’t real. No one could convince him to believe that. “In my version of the timeline, Kara was… She was Supergirl. She was National City’s hero, not me. I was just her partner. And she was the one that found me when I came to earth, she was the one that taught me how to become a hero. And she was… She was the love of my life, my fiancée, until last year she died.” He knew J’onn had probably seen all of that in his memories and this was just a recitation, yet he couldn’t stop the words from flowing out of his mouth. “And I know it’d really happened, because it was the most painful thing I’d had to endure. That kind of pain can’t be faked. And yesterday…” He drew in a shaky breath. “Yesterday was her first death anniversary, and I couldn’t even mourn her properly because…because I was stuck in this timeline where I didn’t even know her, where she wasn’t even Supergirl. So all I want right now is for this to-to be fixed, to go away as soon as possible. I want to go back to my life and mourn her and honor her memory. And I want to find the guy that did all of this and punch him in the face repeatedly until he helps me do that.” He rubbed his eyes, trying to shake the effect of the memory slide show he’d just experienced.

“We’ll see what we can do,” J’onn promised as his gaze flickered to the door. “Don’t mention any of this to Alex.” At first Mon-El frowned at his request, but then the door of the office opened and revealed the agent in question.

“Hey, J’onn—“ she started, and stopped short when she saw Mon-El. Her brows climbed to her forehead. “Mon-El? What are you doing here so early?” The Daxamite could feel J’onn’s stern gaze on his back as he forced a smile and stood up.

“Nothing, we were just discussing something with J’onn,” he said with a shrug. “I was just about to leave anyway.” He waved awkwardly at the Martian as he walked to the door, only for his way to be blocked by Alex. Her chocolate colored gaze was fixed on him.

“Hey, are you okay?” she asked in a low voice full of concern, her eyes traveling on him. “You left in a hurry last night, and you weren’t making any sense.” Mon-El bit the inside of his cheek as he looked at Alex, trying to come up with an excuse. He hoped his nervous laugh didn’t sound as fake as it felt.

“We were discussing that, actually,” he said, looking back at J’onn. “I thought… I thought, you know, that maybe you were right and someone did scramble with my brain. So I asked J’onn look into my mind and see if he can figure out what’s going on.” He tucked his hands to his pockets, shooting J’onn a look that said go-along-with-it. The Martian either understood his expression or saw his thought, but either way he immediately plastered a smile on his face and nodded.

“Yeah. It was an… _interesting_ experience to stroll through his mind.” One corner of his lips tipped up into a smirk. “You wouldn’t want to know what I saw in there.” Alex laughed at that as she nodded, seemingly believing in their story.

“I bet,” she said, glancing at Mon-El, before seriousness took over. “So what was going on? Did you guys manage to figure that out?”

“Not yet,” J’onn answered before Mon-El could even freak out about not having an answer. “But it seemed like someone planted false memories in there that might’ve caused some confusion. Hopefully we’ll be able to fix it soon enough.” Alex took a relieved breath.

“Good. For a moment I thought we’d lost you. I’m so glad you’re okay.” Mon-El snorted at that, the words leaving his mouth without his intention.

“Yeah, me too. I don’t know what you would’ve done without me.” With those words Alex rolled her eyes and faked a laugh. At that moment though, suddenly, it wasn’t Alex standing in front of her; it was Kara. He was sitting on the cot after he was cured from the Medusa virus, and Kara had told him she was happy he survived. And he’d answered in the exact same words he’d just used: _Yeah, me too. I don’t know what you would’ve done without me_. Despite having different appearances, that little gesture of Alex and her words were so like Kara that it was like a punch in the stomach. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her, he couldn’t erase the image of Kara from his mind. She was right there, in front of him looking at him with her bright blue eyes that were filled with a genuine smile.

He had to blink several times to pull himself together before Alex noticed something was wrong. “Yeah, keep telling yourself that,” she responded to him teasingly, shaking his head.

“Yeah,” Mon-El almost repeated her words absentmindedly. Even though the image of Kara had faded from his eyes its effect still lingered, and he knew the more he stayed the worst it’d get, so he opted to leave. “Anyway, I should get going. J’onn, you’ll get back to me if you find anything?” J’onn immediately nodded with slight anxiety, yet didn’t object as he left. Alex waved behind him.

“Don’t go too far!” she yelled. “I wanna enjoy you being here and not having to call you to come.” With that the door shut behind him.

And once again he found himself alone, without anywhere to go.

* * *

**_13:25_ **

Kara exited the ice cream parlor with a cone of ice cream in her hand, which looked like it was caramel flavored from Mon-El’s vantage point. Of course, if his vision wasn’t tricking him. Her hair was pulled up in a half updo, the ends of them brushing her neck and shoulders. She adjusted her glasses as she held the door for her friend, Winn, who had a chocolate ice cream for himself and was saying something to Kara, which made both of them laugh.

Mon-El suddenly wished he had superhearing as well, so that maybe he could hear them. Maybe get a glimpse of what exactly was going on in Kara’s life.

Not that it would matter once he and J’onn figured out what was going on and Kara was… She was gone all over again, yet he still couldn’t stop himself from coming here. It wasn’t planned. It wasn’t intentional. He’d just gone out to stop a house fire and was returning when he saw her and Winn. And he’d just _stopped_ , because he needed to _know_. He needed to know if—

He quickly stopped himself before finishing that sentence _. It doesn’t matter_.

Kara and Winn turned left after exiting the parlor, starting to walk in the general direction of the DEO. It must’ve been their lunch break, and, well… Kara liked getting ice cream in her lunch breaks. When he couldn’t get out of a movie theater or got stuck at home trying to watch and review a TV show, she’d get two cones of ice cream, take a selfie with them through SnapChat and send it to him. Mon-El still had a bunch of photos of her on his phone with her pursed lips and sometimes ice cream smeared on her face as she tried to balance two cones with one hand.

Well, he used to have at least. In his current phone there wasn’t even a mention of Kara.

Mon-El’s eyes followed Winn and Kara as they walked, following each step, trying to see… Trying to see what exactly he had no idea. They seemed like they were close friends, which wouldn’t be odd since they knew each other way before Kara revealed herself as Supergirl. The change in the timeline wouldn’t have affected their relationship as much. Except…

Except if Mon-El wasn’t interpreting all of this wrong, Winn seemed absolutely smitten with Kara. He could see the way Winn’s eyes followed her every move; whether it was smiling or pushing her hair away or adjusting her glasses, filing away every single detail. And he knew Winn was doing that, because when he was first falling for Kara he did the same thing. In fact, he’d realized after her death that he’d been doing it for a far longer time; everything he saw around him reminded him of a part of Kara that he didn’t even know he paid attention to.

 _So Winn still hasn’t given up on Kara in the last six years_ , Mon-El couldn’t help thinking, and he wondered briefly what happened to Lyra, or whether Winn knew her or not. It would make sense if that wasn’t the case, since Kara had been the only reason Winn was working with DEO, and consequently went to the alien bar and met Lyra.

Mon-El noted in his mental to-do-list to check up alien bar to see if the mysterious time-travelling alien had dropped by there. And logically, he knew he should get to that sooner rather than later, yet he couldn’t get his feet to move. He couldn’t take his eyes off of Kara.

He couldn’t stop thinking about whether… Whether her life had turned out to be better _without_ him.

His stomach twisted with the thought as he closed his eyes and tried to compose himself, yet no matter how many times he’d told himself that it made no difference, he didn't feel it. Kara had died when he was with her. She'd lost her life all because he'd brought the Dominators on Earth. If he'd never come there was a good chance she would've been alive. And yes, he knew that, yet... Yet somehow in the previous year he'd managed to convince himself that Kara had been happy with him, that even though at the end she'd lost her life she still... She still had been happier in the five years they'd been together than if he'd never come at all. He of course thought about what her life could’ve been like in that case, yet he never really…

He never had to face it, he never had the chance to find out. And now that he did… He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know. Because if she was happier, then it would mean…

Then it would mean he’d not only taken her life from her, but he’d also taken the _happiness_ she could’ve had. And Mon-El didn’t know if he could live with that.

No. No, he couldn’t.

He swallowed to get rid of the knot in his throat, and opened his eyes. Kara was just about to disappear around the corner. She had her phone in her hand, probably checking something, when she suddenly stopped and looked up, turning around. Her eyes immediately found the building he was on, as if she’d heard something coming from there that piqued her interest.

Only then Mon-El realized the top part of the parapet was completely crushed under his hands, pieces even falling to the ground. He immediately lifted his hands and stepped back but it was too late. There was no way of fixing it now.

That was what Kara must’ve heard, and it would make sense that the crunching of concrete would catch her attention. She always said she had a hard time keeping out strange sounds.

He looked up at where Kara had just been, and his eyes met with hers. Even from a distance like that he knew she was looking right at him. She’d pulled her glasses down her nose to focus, and now it seemed like her hand froze there. And Mon-El knew her well enough to see the shock splashed on her face.

He knew he had to move, to get out of there. As soon as possible. Before… Before Kara realized he was looking at _her_. Before she put the pieces together and realized that the crazy alien that hugged her in CatCo parking lot was National City’s one and only—well, at least in this world—hero Valor. Of course, if she hadn’t yet; he did take off his glasses in front of her. And while Kara might not have been very perceptive, she was _smart_. So he had to fly away, far away from her sight.

He shouldn’t have been there in the first place. What was the point of seeing her happy without him? What was the point of realizing that she could’ve been just as happy if she hadn’t met him? It would only hurt more, and he’d had his fair share of hurt. Kara had been happy with him. No matter what she’d been happy. It had to count for something.

“Hey, Valor?” Alex’s voice coming from his comms took Mon-El out of his thoughts. He managed to break his eye contact with Kara and took a couple of steps back on the roof, out of her sight. His hands were shaking as he reached for the comms and turned on the speaker.

“Yes?” He hoped Alex couldn’t hear the shakiness in his voice. It was hard to speak in a normal tone when his heart felt like it wanted to thump right out of his chest.

“There’s a robbery at Northeast Philipps Boulevard. Two armed guys just busted the door of a jewelry store.” She stopped briefly. “You might want to hurry.”

“I’m on it,” Mon-El announced as he pushed the thoughts of Kara away from his mind and jumped into the air, steering himself toward the direction Alex had given him.

Yet still his eyes flickered to a certain Kryptonian as he passed above her, who was still watching him even as he flew far, far away.

* * *

**_18:24_ **

The alien bar didn’t look much different than Mon-El remembered. Of course there were little changes: The bar was more crowded than he’d ever seen it, the drink options were far more varied, and there was a music group playing some slow song in the corner. The bar he knew never earned enough to even consider having a music group. Another addition was an overhead TV, which was showing a news report about a missing person, a forty six years old African American woman, who was also apparently a medical engineer working for Lord Technologies.

Taking off his jacket, he dropped it behind a chair and sat down, his companions quickly joining him: Alex, Dana, and another DEO agent that he didn’t recognize at all yet apparently was a regular at their meetings in the alien bar. Alex had also mentioned her girlfriend would be meeting them later, and Mon-El was wondering whether she was talking about Maggie or someone else.

“Another successful day for Valor,” Dana joked as she sat next to Mon-El, a grin plastered on her face. “A fire, two armed robberies, and let’s not forget that dog you saved from a tree. Even though we still have no idea how it got up there.” Mon-El shrugged as he leaned back with his hands inside his pockets. He didn’t even bother smiling or answering.

 _Another successful day for Valor_. He used to say that too when the group gathered together here, especially after a day they worked extremely hard. Though his words always included Supergirl as well: _Another successful day for Supergirl and Valor_.

He ducked his chin and tried to keep out the painful memories. “Yeah, well,” he forced out, scratching his cheek. “What are superheroes for?” The title left a bitter taste in his mouth.

“And their sidekicks, of course,” Alex jumped in, patting the Daxamite on the back. “Even though we’re mostly on comms and rarely go out.”

“We do a pretty good job about it,” the unfamiliar DEO agent objected as he leaned forward. Dana shot him a glance.

“Chris, you just tell your computer to do whatever you want it to do. Mon-El _actually_ goes out to fight. Which one is more impressive?”

“Well, _Dana_ , let me remind you that it took me eight years of college to learn that ‘computer stuff’ you’re talking about. Have a little respect.” Dana giggled at Chris’s frustrated expression, Alex joining in. Mon-El could just staring at the guy, not even finding himself to fake a laughter, as his features turned into the familiar features of his best friend—despite the two not looking like each other at all. And yet, it’d used to be Winn bragging about how without him their missions would fail miserably.

“We respect you, don’t worry,” Alex reassured Chris as she put her clutch on the table. “I’m gonna go order our drinks. Chris, beer?” The guy—Chris—nodded as he leaned back and rested his elbow on the chair next to him. “And I’m gonna assume you’re gonna get water, Dana. And a glass of Zakkaria—“

“Um, actually, not today,” Mon-El interjected as he straightened up and cleared his throat. “I-I want club soda. Not Zakkarian ale.” Alex’s brows shot up.

“Seriously? You’re refusing alcohol?” Mon-El pressed his lips together. _I haven’t put a drop of alcohol in my mouth for 11 months_ , he wanted to say. _Not since_ —

“I’m not feeling up to it,” he shrugged it off instead. Alex eyed him suspiciously, trying to see if he was joking or not. She lifted her hands with defeat at the end.

“Fine. I’m not even gonna question this,” she muttered under her breath as she turned around and walked to the bar, calling the bartender. Mon-El watched her until Dana called his name.

“Wow, I never thought I’d see you drink anything other than alcohol. What has gotten into you?” _Kara_.

“Nothing, I just—“ His words were cut when someone dropped a gun on the table. Mon-El looked up, and came face-to-face with a grinning Maggie.

“Hey, Daxamite,” she greeted Mon-El, plopping down on the chair. She was in her work clothes, wearing a black tank top, red leather jacket, and cargo pants with a police badge on her belt. She looked…well, exactly like how Mon-El remembered her. Not that that was much of a surprise for him. Nobody had really changed in this universe except Kara, as far as he could see.

“Hey,” Mon-El greeted Maggie dryly, trying to swallow down the knot in his throat. It didn’t work. The detective frowned.

“Wow, don’t look so glum,” she said, glancing at Mon-El from the corner of her yes. “What happened to you?” Mon-El sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

“Just tired, I guess. It’s been a long two days.”

“Just tired my ass,” Alex interjected, walking up to them. “You’ve been acting like someone ripped your heart out of your chest.” She hit Mon-El on the shoulder lightly before she turned to her girlfriend, leaning over to put a small kiss on her lips. “Hey, Maggie.”

“Danvers.” Maggie pulled Alex to the seat next to her, her fingers wrapping around Alex’s wrist. Mon-El’s chest constricted with the all-too-familiar scene in front of him. Not only it reminded him of all the times he and Kara had double-dates with Alex and Maggie, but that little gesture also reminded him all the things he used to have and was now gone. He quickly diverted away his gaze.

“So what’s going on with him?” Maggie asked with a fake whisper. Mon-El could feel her eyes on him. It was Dana that answered.

“J’onn thinks an alien might’ve planted false memories in his brain.” The Daxamite clenched his fists to stop himself from scoffing.

“Cool,” Maggie commented, earning a glare from him. “I mean, not cool. So, painful memories, huh?” _You have no idea_.

Mon-El leaned forward with that, fixing his eyes on Alex. “Can I ask you guys something?” he asked, resting his elbows on the table. “I mean, I’m trying to figure this thing out still, and…”

“Yeah, of course,” Chris said, obviously seeing the seriousness of the situation. “Shoot.” Mon-El took a deep breath, clasping his hands together to keep them from shaking.

“How did I become a superhero?” he asked. “I mean, how did I decide that?” _Who pushed me to be one without Kara?_ His nails were digging into his palms.

“Um, wow, okay. That’s a good question,” Alex started, pushing her hair away from her face. “How much of it do you wanna know?”

“ _Everything_.”

Alex and Maggie shared a worried glance before Dana jumped into the conversation.

“You didn’t really want to be one at first. In fact, you didn’t want to have anything to do with this world.”

“Yeah, you’ve been a terrible headache,” Alex agreed and laughed. “But you knew we’d never let you out of DEO unless we were sure you weren’t a danger, so you made a deal with us. You’d help us on alien-related missions and prove your ‘innocence’, and if we were convinced we’d let you go.” She shrugged. “I guess you decided to stay at the end.”

“But how? How did I—“ He couldn’t find the right way to ask the question, though Maggie seemed to understand. She tucked a bit of her hair behind her ear, as if to buy herself some time.

“It was after your parents attacked National City to get you back,” she confessed, despite the frustrated look Alex shot her way. “You said that when they asked you to become the prince again and unite their people, you realized that…that you didn’t want to be that kind of person anymore. That you liked who you were now, you liked going out and helping people, and you wanted to continue. We were ready to let you go but you chose to stay.” Mon-El opened his mouth, instinctively, to say that the only reason he had the courage to stand up against his parents and embrace his change was Kara, but he stopped. He hadn’t known her in that timeline. And somehow, someway, he’d still managed to become a hero.

“I… Okay,” he gave up, shaking his head. “Then who designed my suit?”

“Oh, it was DEOs tech division, with Superman’s help. You know, for the logistics of super strength and flying. I also might’ve contributed.” Mon-El pressed his lips with Chris’s answer and small smile. He tried not to grimace.

“What about _Valor_?” he asked finally, his voice dropping low. He had to stop for a second and to pull himself together. Still there was a shakiness in his voice as he continued. “Who gave me that name?” He knew the answer wouldn’t be what he was looking for, yet he needed to know.

The group anxiously glanced at each other before Alex cleared his throat. “It was a joke among us. You know, we sometimes said, ‘So a prince of Daxam can have valor after all.’ But you were the one that chose it when a reporter asked you your name in an interview.”

Mon-El’s shoulders slumped with that answer as he stared at his hands, trying to push back the unwanted tears in his eyes. _It used to be Kara_ , he couldn’t help thinking _. She’d told me I deserved that name after all I did_. And now, after the engagement ring, the House of El symbol on his suit, and the Legion ring, his superhero name had lost its meaning as well. Everything—every _single_ thing—that he kept in the special parts of his heart was ripped away from him. Yes, Kara was alive, but the life that they spent together…their relationship…everything that meant something to them was gone. Everything that made him Mon-El, everything that made them… _them_.

“Mon-El, are you okay?” Dana asked, putting her hand on his. Blinking, Mon-El got rid of his tears and looked up, plastering a smile on his face.

“Of course,” he muttered. “It’s just… You know, just trying to put everything in place.” No one in the table seemed like they believed him. Fortunately the bartender decided to come right at that time with their drinks so he could avoid any questions.

When everyone got their drinks Alex raised her glass, sliding her fingers through Maggie’s. “To putting everything in place, then,” she said, and everyone repeated before they all took a sip from their drink. Even though Mon-El made a point of focusing on the clear and bubbly liquid in his hands, he could feel Alex’s eyes on him, as if warning him that this conversation was not over.

One way or another, Alex Danvers would get him to tell her what was going on.


	8. Not Enough

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prepare your tissues, y'all. This chapter's gonna be pretty angsty.

**23 rd of March, 2021**

**_08:21_ **

Another pencil broke in half in Mon-El’s hand, one piece getting crushed beneath his fingers, the other flying to the wall next to him, he barely heard it clatter to the ground. His eyes were fixed on the paper in front of him, and he couldn’t look away, even though he couldn’t read the words because of the tears in his eyes. Even though the badly scribbled sentences blurred together. Even though the paper was ripped in the middle because his fingers tore it up when he clenched his fist a bit too harshly.

Yet even as none of the words made sense to his eyes now, and he probably wouldn’t be able to read them anyway, he knew he absolutely hated everything he wrote on that paper. It wasn’t even that it wasn’t _good enough_ , it was…it was _terrible_. He’d never be able to get it done. He’d never be able to get more than a few sentences down, and even if he did finish it wouldn’t be good enough. It would _never_ be good enough.

A tear escaped the confinement of Mon-El’s desperate blinking and started sliding down his cheek, until the Daxamite furiously wiped it away. He couldn’t fall apart now. There was so much— _too much_ —to do, and it wasn’t even 9 a.m. yet. No matter how much he might want to give up and do nothing, no matter how much he wanted to just drown himself in alcohol until he didn’t feel anything, he couldn’t. Kara deserved so much better than that. She deserved someone that would prepare her a beautiful funeral, honor her and everything she stood for, and recognize the good she’d done for the world and the sacrifices she’d made to make sure others lived happily and safely. Someone that would make sure her memory lived on, and that she was remembered. Someone that would continue _fighting_ for her city and protect it, no matter how hard it might seem, in her absence. That was the kind of fiancé she deserved, not someone who went off the deep end, who was too weak to fight against the pain and gave up, who drowned himself in grief and couldn’t even write a decent _eulogy_.

He stared at the paper intensely, pushing his tears back as much as possible to read what he wrote. Three short, barely readable sentences, and each word felt more ridiculous than the last. It was as if the words didn’t come out of the mouth of an adult but a child.

_Kara Danvers was the kind of person that everyone would want to have as a friend. She was kind and selfless, putting everyone else’s needs before her. Whenever someone was in need of help, she_

That was where he’d stopped as his tear dropped right onto the middle of the sentence. And then his pencil snapped in two pieces anyway.

Even before he reread his words he knew what he would do with it. So it was no surprise when his fingers wrapped around the thin material and ripped the paper off of the notebook, and then threw it to the ground. The crumbled up ball found its place among the other five of them, as well as the broken pieces of two other pencils. He was shaking all over as he buried his face in his hands, trying to take in steady breaths and push back the sobs that have lined up in his throat.

 _You can’t break apart,_ he told himself, over and over again. He’d never been enough for her when she was alive. Yes, they were together, and they loved each other, but still… Kara deserved everything in the world, and there really wasn’t _anyone_ good enough to give her all that. Yet once Kara had told him that love wasn’t about what you could give to the other, but how much you worked to give all that. And Mon-El had been willing to try day and night to make sure Kara had all that she’d wanted. Why should that change because she was… _gone_? Shouldn’t he bust his ass off to give her everything as well—even in _death_? Shouldn’t he honor her the way she deserved, remember her and make others remember her, and make sure the values she upheld never died?

Yes, _of course_ the answer was yes. He knew it with all his heart. He just never thought it would be _so damn hard._

So when he heard someone’s footsteps enter the room and heard the person call his name, he almost welcomed the distraction. Rao knew he needed it.

“Hey, Mon-El,” Iris said softly. Taking one last breath and quickly wiping away his tears, Mon-El let his hands drop on the table. He didn’t turn to Iris as the woman walked up to him. “I didn’t think you’d be up so early, you slept really late last night.”

He couldn’t help snorting at that, even though he knew the truth of her words. It was about 2 a.m. when he finally managed to chase away the thoughts that were haunting him, stop his tears, and finally fall into an uncomfortable slumber. But of course he should’ve known sleep wouldn’t be much of a help in escaping those thoughts, and that they would haunt him in his nightmares as well.

He still could feel the weight of the kryptonite blade in his hand as he stood in front of Kara, and the sound of clattering when it fell to the ground. It was something he would never forget.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Mon-El whispered as Iris sat next to him. He gripped the side of the table, concentrating on the now empty paper in front of him, and clenched his teeth. “I saw her.” He didn’t have to tell Iris it was in his dream for her to understand. She just reached for his hand on the side of the table, gently pried off his fingers before he caused more damage than just a few dents, and kept her hand on his.

“You wanna talk about it?” Mon-El curled his fingers into a fist again, making sure he didn’t crush Iris’s fingers in his palm, before he took a shaky breath. The words left his mouth before he even intended to.

“We were in our house,” he started, trying to keep his voice normal. It didn’t work. “And… And we were in the kitchen. I was cooking, I guess, bu-but then she showed up, a-and wrapped her arms around me, and—and she started kissing me. And I… I kissed her back, and I lifted her and sat her on the counter, but then…” Emotions clogged his throat as he struggled to continue. He swallowed hard once, twice, yet it didn’t help with calming him down at all. He remembered the smooth, cold surface of the knife in his hand. He remembered how it felt like as he took it out of Kara’s stomach. He remembered the green glow, so, so bright, almost blinding. And he could see Kara in front of him, her eyes devoid of any emotion as she stared at him, red blood staining her lips. Her skin looked paper thin and pale, as if someone had sucked all the life out of her. As if it was him that…

“Then I felt a knife in my hand.” His stomach twisted with a sick feeling at that. “I-I didn’t realize wh-what was happening at first. I co-continued kissing her, but then… But then I felt a warm wetness on my lips and I tas— I tasted _blood_. So I opened my eyes, stepped back, and…” He pressed his lips together and bit the inside of his cheek harshly to keep himself from sobbing. Still, there was no stopping the tears falling down his cheeks. “I stabbed her. I’d stabbed her with a kryptonite knife, and I…” He tried to take a breath but it got hitched in his throat. “I did it. I did that to her. I… _I killed her_.”

He wasn’t sure he was talking about the nightmare anymore.

“Mon-El, you know Kara would never blame you for this,” Iris objected, putting her hand on his arm. “She loved you. She wanted to be with you.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that it was my fault!” Mon-El snapped, pushing Iris’s hand away. “What she thinks… It doesn’t change anything.”

“I don’t think you really believe that.” There was conviction in Iris’s voice as she pushed her hair away from her eyes. “I know how much you love Kara, and we all can’t help blaming ourselves when we lose someone we love. That’s something none of us can change. But I also know that you also respected Kara’s choices more than anything, and let me tell you, Kara would’ve still chosen to have a life with you even if she knew how it would end.” She squeezed his hand and smiled.

Mon-El wished, with all his heart, he could believe Iris’s words. That… That even with her terribly unfair fate, the life they had was worth it. He needed it to be true so _badly_ , and maybe deep down he knew it was. But that didn’t change what he _felt_ , and those feelings clouded everything else he could think.

“I can’t even plan a damn funeral,” he croaked desperately, changing the subject. His shoulders slumped as his eyes flickered to the crumbled papers on the floor. “I can’t help with the…the planning. It was like I-I dropped all of that on you when _I_ should’ve been the one doing it. She was _my_ fiancée. And… And the one thing that I took upon myself, I can’t do it properly. I can’t write a decent eulogy. I’m supposed to be good at writing—I write for a living—but…but nothing I wrote is good enough. And it’s—it’s even worse when I can’t talk about anything she did as Supergirl because she wanted to keep her identity as a secret.” He pulled another pencil from the pencil cup J’onn had given him. “I can’t even _hold_ a pencil without breaking it.” He had to rein himself before the thing crushed under his strength.

“Why don’t you use a computer?” Iris offered. Mon-El looked at the corner of the room and the pile of useless wires and metals there that used to be a laptop about an hour ago.

“I tried,” he said and pointed there with his chin. “It didn’t work.”

“Oh.” She narrowed her eyes, as if she was thinking about something. “You know what, I’m gonna ask Cisco to alien-proof a laptop for you.” Mon-El couldn’t help scoffing at that, a small smile almost playing on his lips. It faded way too quickly. “But anyway, that’s not why I came here. There were a few questions we wanted to ask you about the funeral.” She took out a notepad and glanced sympathetically at Mon-El. “If that’s okay.”

“Ye-yeah. Of course.” _At least I’d be_ doing _something_.

“Okay, so, first thing. Barry talked to J’onn about Kryptonian funerals, and he mentioned something about sending the body to the space. Is that how the funeral’s gonna be?” Mon-El took a deep breath and shook his head, straightening up his shoulders.

“No, she wants… She _wanted_ an Earth funeral. We’d talked about that before, and she said she wanted to be buried next to her family, here on earth.” _I never thought that day would come this soon when we talked._ “But I know a Kryptonian prayer that I…I want to say. In her planet’s name.” Iris scribbled some words on the notepad, her face completely blank except her furrowed brows.

“How about flowers? Caitlin said we could choose two types. There’re gladioli, lilies, roses, orchid, and carnations.” The Daxamite didn’t even have to think about that.

“Lilies,” he said as he lifted his head. “Those were her favorites. And… And carnations. They’re for admiration and remembrance, right?” At least that was what he’d heard from a movie.

One corner of Iris’s lips tipped up. “Yes, it does. I’ll let Caitlin know.” She wrote that down as well. “Oh, by the way, we’re going through the list of guests you’ve given us, and for now Lena Luthor, Cat Grant, and her son are coming. J’onn said they’d find a place to accommodate Miss Grant since she’s from out of town. Felicity and Curtis are working on the others.” She checked something off from her list, and then smiled. “I’m guessing she’d want a _stainless steel_ casket?”

“No,” Mon-El answered, lifting his head. “No, she’d want… She’d want wood. She loved rustic things.” He cleared his throat. “And before you ask, she’d also want an outdoor funeral. She’d want to be under…under the light of sun. It’s her God. Rao.” He truly hoped that Rao was real and Kara somehow had found her way to him, now living under his light forever.

“Check and check. And the body will be present.” Mon-El’s throat knotted as he bowed his head.

“I doubt it would burn anyway,” he tried to joke with a shrug. From Iris’s grimace he could see he’d failed miserably. “I mean, yes. It’ll be an… It’ll be an open casket funeral.”

“Okay,” Iris said, trying to keep her voice normal, and smiled up at Mon-El. The smile didn’t reach her eyes, yet it didn’t look as fake as Mon-El’s either. “We’ll let you know when the preparations are over, but the funeral will be at 4 p.m. Is that… Will that be okay for you?”

“Yeah.” Mon-El stared at the paper in front of him, hoping he’d be able to get something written down until then. The time seemed too short and too long at the same time. But after everything Iris and the others did… It was the least he could do.

“Hey, Iris?” he called for the woman as she stood up. Iris stopped and turned back, curiosity flickering in her eyes. He took a deep breath. “Thank you. For… For all of this. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“It was an honor.” She tucked her notepad in her bag and pushed away a strand of her hair that had fallen on her forehead. “And Mon-El? Write what you want to write in the eulogy. Don’t think about what’s appropriate, or what you should talk about. Write what you feel, and it’ll more than enough for Kara. Trust me.” She flashed him a smile before she went out, leaving Mon-El alone with his thoughts.

It took him a couple of moments to pull himself together, smooth the paper in front of him, and pick up the pencil again.

* * *

**_13:37_ **

Mon-El had never been so glad that Barry was a speedster. Sure, he’d helped team Supergirl in many missions, and his ability to phase through things had really been useful in certain situations. Still, the gratitude Mon-El felt to him for bringing a black suit and shirt surpassed the other things, especially since the last thing the Daxamite wanted was to go home. He was barely handling all the memories that filled DEO; he didn’t think he’d be able to handle being in his and Kara’s house.

Grabbing the black tie from the table next to him, Mon-El quickly wrapped it around his neck and straightened it up looking at the mirror. It’d been a long time since he last wore black head-to-toe. Somehow, it felt fitting.

Two knocks on the door distracted him. He turned around to see who came.

Winn.

The IT specialist pushed the door open slowly, arms hanging at his sides. Mon-El’s hands froze on his tie as he watched Winn lift his head. His eyes were red and puffy, shining with unshed tears, and his face looked like it was twisted with a permanent grimace. He still tried to smile.

Mon-El wondered briefly if he looked as horrible as Winn, or maybe even worse. Even though his alien physiology didn’t show the effects of crying much, there still was a piece of paper in the pocket of his jacket pocket, wetted with tears, that proved he spent the best part of the morning crying as well. He truly hoped he could read the eulogy he wrote on the paper.

“Hey, buddy,” Winn started, stepping into the room. He had to clear his throat before he continued. “I’m… I’m sorry I couldn’t be here yesterday. I was in a… You know, I wasn’t in the best place, and I didn’t really think—“ His voice trailed off as tears seemed to overwhelm him. He shook his head. “I wasn’t the only one suffering, and I should’ve been here for you as a friend. You shouldn’t have gone through this alone. I’m sorry.”

Mon-El’s heart thrummed in his chest with Winn’s honest expression. He felt his own tears welling up in his eyes. He’d spent the last couple of hours alone writing a eulogy, except the occasional disturbance from team Flash and Arrow who informed him about the funeral plans. He’d tried to be strong, to look strong at least, yet he could feel his defenses crumbling down. He was so utterly exhausted of trying to hold it together. He pressed his lips together to keep himself from crying, closed the distance between him and Winn in only two steps, and wrapped his arms around Winn’s shoulders. Despite needing to be extra careful to not crush Winn’s bones in his hands, and despite not feeling his embrace when Winn hugged him back, for the first time that day he didn’t feel completely alone. Winn understood him perfectly. He knew what it was like to lose Kara; not just anyone, but _Kara_. He knew how much it _hurt_.

Closing his eyes, Mon-El rested his chin on Winn’s shoulder and blinked his tears away. “I’m sorry too,” he whispered before pulling back. He still kept his hands on Winn’s shoulders. He was so wrapped around the funeral business, and wanting to do right by Kara, that he’d forgotten his best friend. “I should’ve come to see you. I was… I was just…”

“I know,” Winn said softly. “Cisco told me what you’ve been doing for Kara since yesterday. With the funeral and all…” He took a deep breath. “You were doing the right thing. Making sure… Making sure Kara got what she deserved. We should’ve been here for you.” Mon-El dropped his arms to his sides and tucked his hands to his pockets. He shook his head.

“It was… It was mostly the others. I barely did anything.”

“You were there for her when I couldn’t be,” Winn disagreed. “You… You fought through an unbearable grief to be there for her. I think… I think she would’ve been proud of you.” He fixed his eyes to the floor as they both stayed silent for a second. Neither of them knew what to say to make the situation better, or if that was even possible. All Mon-El could do was nod at Winn’s words, even though no part of him felt their truth. There wasn’t much space to feel anything other than pain, guilt and shame anyway.

The silence in the room was interrupted when Oliver appeared at the door. “Am I interrupting something?” he asked. Mon-El cleared his throat.

“No, we were just… We were just talking. Is the car ready?” he asked, turning to Oliver. It’d taken him about five seconds to decide he couldn’t fly to the funeral location, and it would so not be a smart idea to drive in the state he was in, so Diggle was driving him, J’onn, Oliver, and now Winn there. The rest were already at the site, making the final preparations.

“Yeah,” Oliver nodded, offering him and Winn a small smile. “If you are ready too, we can go.” He’d almost said it like they had a choice in the matter. And maybe he truly was giving them a choice. There was no judgment in his voice; almost as if he’d never judge them if they just decided it was too hard for them. And oh how Mon-El wanted to do that. The makeshift bed in the room had never looked so tempting to lie on under a blanket.

But of course he couldn’t. What had Winn just said? _I think Kara would’ve been proud of you_. Mon-El wasn’t sure if he’d accomplished that until now, yet he knew staying would definitely not help with that. If he’d stayed, he’d be running away. He’d be… He’d be reverting back to the person he’d been before she was dead, and he knew that was the kind of person that would never make her proud. That person was a coward, that person would do everything to escape a burden because he would be too afraid to carry the weight of the pain. It would be like… like everything she’d done for her was for nothing, and it _couldn’t be_ for nothing.

He knew what his answer was to Oliver’s question. “I’m ready,” he said as he stepped forward, glancing briefly at his friend. Winn looked like he could fall apart any second. “Winn?” Winn blinked out of his stupor as he turned to Mon-El, and then nodded.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m ready too. Let’s go.” Mon-El tried to reassuringly smile at him as they followed Oliver out, yet he doubted it looked anything like that.

It didn’t take them long to arrive at the funeral site. It was a green field that stretched out as far as eye could see. There were only a few trees here and there, and Mon-El could see annual flowers sprouting in between grasses, but those were almost it. The… The funeral would take place in the middle of the field, under a huge oak tree. Even from their parking spot Mon-El could see a thin crowd of people gathered around there, all of them dressed in shades of black. He spotted Felicity, Caitlin, and Iris talking in a small group with Barry behind his wife, his arms wrapped around her waist. That small gesture was enough to constrict Mon-El’s heart.

He used to do that too. Wrap his arms around Kara, unexpectedly most of the time. At first she was startled by those hugs, jumping slightly and turning around, her blue eyes meeting his. Mon-El had assumed by time she got used to it. As if… As if she _felt_ him approach from behind, as if she instantly knew it was _him_ the moment his hands found her waist. She’d lean into his touch, tip her head back to rest it on his chest, and smile that radiant smile of hers. Sometimes, if they were alone—or if he felt like it—he’d reach down and capture her lips with his, giving her a small and comfortable kiss.

His arms felt utterly empty as he turned his eyes away from Barry and Iris to the rest of team Flash and Arrow, who were standing next to the oak tree and looking down at the…

At the casket. At the _open_ casket.

A huge knot lodged in his throat. He couldn’t take his eyes off of the wooden box, knowing what was in it. _Who_ was in it. He hadn’t seen her body since yesterday, when Cisco promised he’d find a way to get it prepared without letting anyone find out who Kara really was. He proposed, at first, to get it done himself, but even the thought of _what_ he would be preparing her for… It made him feel so nauseated that he was glad he wasn’t alone at the time, and that someone took the burden from his shoulders.

“Mon-El?” Oliver called for him softly. The Daxamite blinked and slipped away from his thoughts as he turned to the man sitting next to him. He wiped his tears away with the back of his hand.

“I’m okay,” he whispered before Oliver could ask the question. He doubted either of them believed his words.

Mon-El knew the more he stayed in the car, the more he’d want to stay there, so before that happened he pushed open the door and went out. Winn had already gone and joined the group.

Oliver walked to his side slowly, his hands in his pockets. Mon-El could feel his understanding eyes on him as he stood by his side.

“You know,” he started after a short silence, “it’s okay if you don’t want to go. If it hurts too much.” Mon-El’s stomach twisted with those words. He gulped, trying to get rid of the knot in his throat. When silence stretched Oliver continued. “I haven’t gone to my mother’s funeral.”

Mon-El couldn’t help himself as his eyes snapped at the man. “What?” Oliver took a deep breath, staring at the funeral site.

“An enemy of mine, from years ago, killed her because of me. Because he wanted to _hurt_ me. And it worked.” He didn’t say anything else, just let the words sink in. It was then Mon-El realized why Oliver was offering him a way out. Because he _understood_. Because he’d been in the same place. It was more than not judging him. Mon-El knew no one would really blame him if he decided to walk away. Yet Oliver… What Oliver offered was _understanding_. He doubted anyone else would be able to do that.

“Did you regret it?” he couldn’t help asking, trying to find a way to put all of his thoughts together. Oliver sighed at that as he ducked his chin.

“Every single day. I still do.” Mon-El shut his eyes painfully, even though he didn’t expect a much different answer. That didn’t mean he didn’t hope for it, of course.

“Then I guess I don’t have much of a choice, right?” he croaked. Oliver didn’t say anything as he turned his eyes to the ground and forced his feet to walk up the path to the funeral site. Many people had already taken their seats; it was about 4 p.m. after all. The faint melody of a song could be heard as he approached. It took him a couple of seconds to recognize the song. He came to a halt then. He knew the song oh-so-well. _Goodbye My Lover_ by James Blunt. It had been a popular song once, yes, but it was… It was more than that. It was the lyrics of it, it was the tone, as if… As if it described his relationship with Kara. Tears threatened to fall down as the lyrics of the song filled his ears.

 _You touched my heart, you touched my soul._  
_You changed my life and all my goals._  
_And love is blind and that I knew when,_  
_My heart was blinded by you._

_He bowed his head, clenching his fingers into fists to compose himself. He’d asked Iris to choose a song that would be fitting for Kara, that would honor her, but this… He didn’t expect her to choose a song that represented his relationship with her…them._

He took a deep breath as he pushed away his pain and approached his group of friends, who luckily had walked away from the casket. He would face Kara later. Right now… Right now he needed his strength, and he was afraid seeing Kara would break him all over again.

It was Barry that noticed him first. He straightened up at his sight and forced a smile. “Hey man,” he said, putting his hand on Mon-El’s shoulder lightly. Or, at least, it felt lightly to him. “How are you holding up?” Mon-El dug his hands in his pockets and shrugged.

“Let’s just get through today, and then I’ll decide,” he answered, looking up. He doubted anyone truly believed he was anything but horrible, though. He’d looked at himself in the mirror. And… And the weight of those unsaid words hung in the middle of the group, rendering everyone speechless for a moment. _I’m trying to hold on as best I can for her, but the truth is, I’m totally broken inside_.

 _I've seen you cry, I've seen you smile._  
_I've watched you sleeping for a while._  
_I'd be the father of your child._  
_I'd spend a lifetime with you_.

Adjusting his glasses—a nervous habit he’d gotten from Kara—he looked at the crowd sitting on the chair, some of them eyeing him. His eyes met with Lena’s, who offered him a small smile through her tears, and then Cat Grant’s, whom he’d met a couple of years ago when she visited National City. Even _she_ had a sad look on her face, and even _her_ smile was sympathetic. There was no denying how many people Kara had truly affected, and Cat was one of them. Everyone liked her.

 _Everyone_.

Mon-El also spotted a couple of Kara’s coworkers, including Eve and Snapper, and five or six DEO agents whom she’d been closest with. The seats were almost all taken. On a better day Mon-El might’ve been proud that her fiancée was so liked that almost everyone they invited had come. But this wasn’t a normal day, and he would’ve preferred not seeing some of these people for the rest of his life if it meant he could get Kara back. As selfish as it would be.

 _I know your fears and you know mine._  
_We've had our doubts but now we're fine,_  
_And I love you, I swear that's true._  
_I cannot live without you_.

“I think it’s time to start,” Mon-El informed his friends before anyone else could make a comment about the whole situation. Felicity nodded, quickly wiping away her tears with a tissue.

“Yeah. Yeah, let’s do that,” she said with a nod. That was when Oliver appeared behind her, almost as if he’d _sensed_ her pain, and put an arm around her waist. Mon-El quickly ripped his gaze off of them as he turned around, walking up to the middle of the place. The pieces of paper in his pockets felt like they weighed a thousand tons. His eyes were focused on the flowers, lilies and carnations adorning the four corners of the casket. He made sure he didn’t look inside. _After the eulogy_ , he told himself. _Then I can let myself fall apart. But not before._

 _Goodbye my lover._  
_Goodbye my friend._  
_You have been the one._  
_You have been the one for me_.

As the song ended, Mon-El cleared his throat, getting the attention of the attendees. The whispered conversations stopped immediately as everyone’s attentions turned to him.

“Hi,” he started, straightening up and taking his hands off of his pockets. His voice was hoarse because of all the crying he did in the morning, and he had to clear his throat twice before he continued. “I… I want to thank you all for joining us on this day that we… That we gathered together to honor the life of Kara Danvers as she says goodbye to this world.” Stopping for a second, he took a deep breath and reached for his pocket, taking out the two crumpled pieces of paper that he’d written his eulogy on. He had to smooth it several times before he could continue.

“If you asked me to describe Kara, and everything she’d meant to me, with one word, at first you wouldn’t get an answer. Trying to encompass _everything_ she’d been into just one word, trying to fit in every aspect of her life, her personality, her little quirks and habits, things that she loved and things that she hated into a word, would be impossible. I might’ve said perfect, I might’ve said incredible, sweet, kind, amazing, selfless, caring, understanding. I might’ve said funny, radiant, bright. Or I might’ve said none them, and instead you’d get an answer like this:

“I can’t describe Kara with one word, because Kara Danvers and I didn’t meet just once in…in our lives. Over the course of our relationship we met several times, over and over again, as we both discovered different parts of ourselves. The first time I met her I noticed how caring she was. It wasn’t just toward people she knew, it was toward everyone. Despite having lost her parents early on she hadn’t let that affect all the goodness in her heart. She never wanted to solve a conflict with aggression. Instead she talked to people, she soothed their pain, she complimented them whenever possible. She loved turning their tears into joy; she loved putting smiles on their face. I remember one day she drove almost an hour to Winn’s favorite pizzeria just because he wasn’t having the best day.” Mon-El’s eyes met with Winn’s on that, and the IT specialist bowed his head, as if trying to hold his tears. Mon-El pressed his lips together and had to take a deep breath before he continued.

“The second time I noticed her selflessness. I think… I think that was something that baffled me the most. How she thought about others before herself, even the ones she didn’t know. She was willing to sacrifice pieces of herself to make sure others got what they wanted. She knew the amount of power she had, and she knew she could get anything, yet she never even tried. She knew using her power for herself would be selfish and unfair. Instead she used that power not to _get_ anything, but to give people something. More than… More than four years ago, there was a Cadmus threat against aliens in National City, and Kara couldn’t get her article on the newspaper to warn the aliens. So she posted it on a blog, making sure those aliens could prepare themselves for the threat, even though… Even though she knew the cost could be her job.” The faint memory filled his mind as emotions lodged in his throat. He remembered what Kara had said then: _Maybe being Supergirl and having you is enough_. He’d felt so proud then, but it wasn’t just that. Finally, after years and years of not being enough for anyone he cared about, hearing it from Kara’s mouth that he was enough for her… It was then that he started believing _maybe_ he could be worthy of Kara, _maybe_ he could make her as happy as she deserved to be. He wished he could’ve said all of that, express how much…how much she truly meant to him. He wished he didn’t have to hide the fact that she was Supergirl.

He wished he wasn’t even here, making this speech, and instead he was at home with…with her, telling _her_ exactly how important she was.

He had to speak the next words over his knotted throat, not being able to help the hoarseness in her voice. “The third thing I noticed was her heart, filled with all the love in the world. It was endless; it—it didn’t lessen because she chose to love someone. In fact, it felt like…” A painful chuckle escaped his lips. “The more she loved, the more she _had_ love inside. She extended that to everyone around her, even people you wouldn’t think of. But…but what amazed me the most when I met her was her relationship with her adoptive sister, Alex.” Mon-El’s eyes flickered on the guests to find the agent. At first he thought he’d missed her because of the tears in his eyes, but his eyes swept over the people twice, three times, yet she wasn’t there. In fact, Mon-El hadn’t seen Alex ever since…

Ever since she slammed him into a wall and told him he should’ve died instead of Kara.

His eyes found Felicity, who had taken care of the guests. She seemed to understand what Mon-El was looking for and shook his head. _Alex didn’t come_.

Mon-El’s breath got hitched in his throat. He couldn’t take his eyes off of Felicity; the eulogy papers almost forgotten in his hands. _Alex didn’t come_. Alex, the person that Kara loved probably the most in the world and the person that loved Kara unlike anyone else, had bailed on her sister’s funeral. And Mon-El knew, from experience, that there could only be one reason for that: Alex was hurting _too much_ to come.

Guilt twisted Mon-El’s stomach as his eyes filled with tears. The whole world blurred around him, and suddenly he wasn’t in the funeral anymore. He was in the med bay in the DEO, sitting beside the cot. Kara’s body was lying in front of him. He had her hand in his, squeezing it tightly, desperately, begging her to open her eyes, willing her to come back to him, to not leave him, to promise that she’ll be with him forever. And then it wasn’t Kara that was in front of him but it was Alex. _It’s your fault_ , she was yelling at him, her voice quivering with unshed tears. Every word felt like a punch to Mon-El’s stomach. A part of him, deep down, knew he wasn’t in the med bay and all of it was happening in his head, yet he couldn’t get rid of the image. It was still in front of him, and it was as agonizing as it had been the first time. _If it wasn’t for you she would’ve been alive_ , Alex continued. Her face blurred in front of Mon-El’s eyes. _You let her die. If she never knew you, if you stayed the hell away from her she would’ve been alive. It’s your fault. It should’ve been you_.

As the last words echoed inside Mon-El’s chest he felt his heart shattering into pieces. All those pieces he’d tried so hard to keep together, that he glued together temporarily at least until he got through with the funeral broke apart and scattered around, their sharp corners biting into his organs. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t keep going.

“Mon-El?” He heard someone whisper next to him and felt a faint touch on his arm. His eyes flickered to the person. It was Barry, looking at him anxiously. “Are you okay?”

Mon-El knew the answer was a big no.

He tried to slip away from his thoughts that were drowning him, pulling him down, down, down, and lifted his hand. The papers crumpled under his grip, so much so that he could see holes here and there. He forced himself to focus on the words. He forced himself to open his mouth, to read them, yet it was impossible. His heart was beating in his throat, his eyes were filling with continuous tears, that it was impossible to separate one word from the other. They all jumbled together to the point he couldn’t even tell where each word started and ended.

“Alex and Kara—“ he started, his voice shaking just like his hands. He doubted anyone could hear or understand him. “Th-They were mor-more than… They were…” The paper tore in half before he could even finish the sentence. He still didn’t— _couldn’t_ —turn his eyes away from the papers. He tried to press his lips together to keep them from quivering, yet he didn’t even have enough strength to do that. And he was trying, _hard_. He was trying to keep going, keep going, keep going; he was forcing himself to say something, but his voice was lost. It hurt too much. _It just hurt too much_.

“I-I’m sorry,” he barely managed to whisper, shoving the paper into Barry’s hands. “I’m so—sorry. I can’t. I _can’t_.” He turned around in an attempt to leave, to get as far away from the place as possible, yet came to an immediate stop when he came in front of the casket. The logical part of him screamed at him to stop before he looked inside, knowing what he was going to see, yet he couldn’t hear the screams. He found his gaze falling on it.

He felt his heart stop in her chest.

 _She looks stunning_. That was his first thought when he looked at her. His eyes took her in; the gold and brown and blond and caramel strands of her hair cascading around her head, her lashes brushing her cheeks and curling up, her pink lips forever frozen in a small, peaceful almost-smile… Her hands were resting on her stomach, over a faint red, almost pink dress that covered her arms and chest, reminding Mon-El of her Supergirl costume. To represent that a blue ribbon was wrapped around her wrist. Whoever prepared her body, they made an _exceptional_ job showing her natural beauty. It would be almost too easy to believe she was sleeping if not… If not for the casket she was laying in.

Tears started falling down his cheeks as his vision blurred again, and a silent sob shook his body. He covered his mouth wish his hand and turned around, walking around the casket and almost running to the car. Well, he _would be_ running if he didn’t stumble with each step, his knees too weak to carry the burden on his shoulders.

He managed to make it to the car Oliver drove before he fell to the ground. His knees scraped the asphalt and he was almost sure his pants were torn, yet he couldn’t care. What did it matter if he looked good or not? What did it matter if he had a proper suit on? He’d failed either way. He couldn’t finish the eulogy. He couldn’t give Kara a proper funeral. He’d tried so _hard_ , he’d tried with _everything_ that he had, yet it hadn’t been enough. His _best_ hadn’t been enough. He still let her down.

Sitting down next to the car he rested his back on the tire, sobs whacking his body. He didn’t even know how he was still crying; he thought he’d be out of tears or too exhausted by then. Yet tears still came, his teeth still clashed together with his sobs, his throat still burned with physical strain emotions lodged into them.

He felt rather than saw someone kneel down in front of him. Shame churned in his stomach as he looked up, his eyes meeting with Barry’s eyse, which had non-judgmental looks in them. Barry reached forward and put his hand on Mon-El’s knee. He could also see two sets of feet behind Barry, one belonging to Iris and the other Caitlin.

“It’s okay,” Barry whispered after a couple of seconds, rubbing Mon-El’s knee. “It’s okay to fall apart.” The Daxamite shook his head almost violently, biting the inside of his cheek. He was sure he would’ve tasted blood if not for his invincible skin.

“ _No_ ,” he croaked, trying to talk over his sobs. “No, it’s not. I…” Something shattered inside him as he finally felt the weight of his realization. As he realized _what_ he’d truly done. “I failed her, Barry,” he whispered, “I _failed_ her.” His sobs cut his words as he rested his forehead on his arm, giving up his struggle against the sobs and instead letting it all out. Barry didn’t disagree with him as his hand stayed on Mon-El’s knee, or Mon-El couldn’t hear him disagree, yet somehow it was better. It was how it should be. There was no point in fooling himself, no point in believing he hadn’t spectacularly ruined the whole funeral, which should’ve been a day Kara’s memory was celebrated. At the end it didn’t change anything. Kara still deserved better than him. He still couldn’t protect her when she needed that. He still let her die. She was… She was still gone, and now, even in death, he’d failed her in the worst way possible.

_I'm so hollow, baby, I'm so hollow.  
I'm so, I'm so, I'm so hollow._

* * *

**_19:23_ **

Mon-El entered the alien bar, his hands tucked in his pockets, and made his way to the counter without wasting any time. A couple of regulars said hi to him, familiar with him from both the days he was a bartender and the nights he spent here together with “team Supergirl”, drinking and laughing and having fun. He didn’t have it in him to smile as an answer at their greetings. The huge hole in his chest was spreading to his body like a disease, poisoning every cell inside him. He could only nod at them before he sat on a bar stool, gesturing at the bartender to come.

“Hey, Mon-El,” the bartender said, flashing him a smile. Her name was Aviya, if Mon-El remembered correctly, and she’d started working in the bar a couple of weeks ago. As far as he knew she was human, yet in this bar it was hard to say. “Club soda for you?” Aviya asked, reaching behind her to get it. The Daxamite interrupted quickly.

“Um, actually, no. Not today,” he whispered with a rusty voice. Even his sped-up healing couldn’t fix the damage all that crying did to his throat easily. “Give me something strong. You know, alien level strong.” He took a deep breath. “Something that can make me…drunk.” The word had a bitter taste in his mouth. He quickly showed down the guilt and nausea and instead focused on his hands.

“Are you sure?” she asked, obviously surprised. Mon-El lifted his head to look into her eyes. Not that she didn’t have the right to be surprised; the strongest thing he’d drunk for the last couple of years in this bar was probably tequila, and about 30 cups of that would be needed to get him drunk. Being a superhero was truly a full-time job, so he and Kara rarely drank, not wanting to put anyone’s life in danger because they weren’t available.

Mon-El pushed the memory away and nodded. “Yeah,” he whispered as he took out his wallet to get a $50 bill. “Give me the whole bottle.” Aviya came to a stop with that, a bottle of Zakkarian ale in her hand, and looked up at him. Worry had etched into her eyes.

“Mon-El—“

“Aviya,” Mon-El cut in before she could continue. Desperation was dripping from his voice. “ _Please_.” He didn’t know whether it was the look on his face or the tone of his voice that convinced her, but after a moment of hesitation Aviya put the bottle on the counter with a glass and took the money. “Keep the change,” Mon-El told her before she could give it back. Aviya nodded, her gaze searching the Daxamite’s face.

“Be careful with that,” she warned him, pointing at the bottle. “It’s pretty strong.”

“Just what I need,” Mon-El joked dryly, yet he couldn’t force a smile. Instead, he took the bottle and glass and went to a booth, opening the lid of the bottle with shaky fingers. He only hesitated for one second before filling his glass halfway.

It didn’t take him more than two hours to finish the whole bottle.


	9. Happiness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all!
> 
> I'm so, so, so sorry this took me so long to post, but I've literally been travelling from US to Turkey since yesterday morning, and I was tired as hell, so it took me a couple of hours to proofread it again - just in case - and post it. But anyway, I'm actually really excited about this chapter, because there's a really good Karamel scene that I enjoyed writing so much *wink wink* so I hope you like it too!
> 
> Also, I legit just realized that this fic hit...100,000 words, at least up to the part I've written it! I might've screamed a little in my hotel room when I realized that, so much so that my friends asked me what was going on lol. But this might be the longest thing I've ever written in my life, and I'm still so excited about the fic even after all those hours I spent on it, so seeing that number on the word document was like a real achievement for me. But this isn't just my accomplishment, a big part of it is also about you, my readers, because you've motivated me to write this with your likes and comments and your enthusiasm about it, and it's because of you this fic had gotten to the point that it did. So thank you, thank you, THANK YOU for this, for making me smile and laugh, for reading and liking my fics, for commenting on them, because you truly make my life better. And I hope you're enjoying this fic as much as I enjoy writing it.
> 
> I love you all sooooooo much! :)

**25 th of March, 2022**

**_11:53_ **

Mon-El had always wanted to have an office of his own. Not because he particularly liked offices, but… But it was one of those things you saw on TV and you wished you had, even though you wouldn’t actually enjoy it. He never really tried having a job that required working in an office, because one, he couldn’t imagine sitting in the confinement of same four walls every single day, and two, office jobs generally meant no time for _any_ TV or movies, and that he couldn’t have. That was why he’d believed the best job for him would be a TV and movie critic.

But of course, he should’ve known the changed-timeline Mon-El (that was what he’d taken a habit of calling his life here) wouldn’t be like that and want his own office at the DEO. At least that was what J’onn told him. Apparently, a couple of years ago, he’d argued that the “Consultant in Extraterrestrial Life” was a very crucial position and required him to have an office. It would help him think better if he had a silent place, and he would also have a room to organize everything alien-related DEO managed to find. Well, at least the files for them. “We all thought it’d be better to get you—I mean, _him_ —out of our hair instead of having him lurk around,” J’onn had explained. “Besides, we already had an empty office.”

Mon-El was beginning to _hate_ the said office. Not about anything particular about it, but…but the whole _concept_ of it. In fact, the office was nice and airy, with even a window on the sidewall that overlooked National City, yet it also reminded Mon-El of…

It reminded Mon-El of _Kara’s_ office. The light blue walls, white table and the mess of papers and pencils on it, the office chair resting behind the table… The last truly happy memory Mon-El had with Kara had been in her office, before they found about the Dominators and… And everything went downhill. He’d brought her potstickers then, thinking it would put a little smile on her face. And they’d discussed the article she was writing, and a TV show he now didn’t even _remember_ , just like…just like a normal engaged couple, unaware of what would happen that night. Unaware that…that they would never get to be a “normal engaged couple” again.

They would never be _together_ again.

A pang of pain hit him in the chest as he straightened up in his chair, trying to push out the painful thoughts. He had a job in hand to focus, which was half-responsible for the messiness of the table. J’onn had given him in the morning a bunch of files about aliens he’d fought ever since he donned the cape. Yes, there was a chance that in this timeline he didn’t fight the overcoat-villain, but _maybe_ he had. And it was better than diving blind into the whole situation. Yet he’d looked through about ten files now, and only four of those aliens he’d recognized. They weren’t _nearly_ powerful enough to open a portal in time. Yet ten files were nothing compared to about fifty of them that were still in the box, and the Martian had said that wasn’t even it; he would bring a few more when he had the time.

Mon-El was just about to take the eleventh file when someone knocked on his door. Sighing, he dropped the file. “Come on in.”

The opened door revealed J’onn. He was in his usual DEO attire, plus what seemed like thick files in his arms. His face was devoid of emotions as he shut the door behind him.

“Hey,” Mon-El greeted the Martian, his eyes briefly flickering to the cluster of papers he was carrying. “More files for me?”

“Yeah,” J’onn said, stopping in front of the table and put the files on it. And yes, Mon-El was right: They _were_ thick. There was only three of them, yet altogether they were larger than the total ten files he’d examined. Well, one of those ten files only had two pieces of paper in it, but that wasn’t the case. “I had to spend some time to gather these together, but I think these people have the potential and resources to do what you’ve described.” Mon-El lifted his brow as his eyes flickered back and forth between J’onn and the files, but then he reached for the first of them. J’onn stopped him by putting a hand on it. “Mon-El, answer me honestly,” he said softly, his eyes bearing into Mon-El’s. “How are you holding up?”

Even that little question was enough to bring back the pressure in his chest. Mon-El tried to hide his grimace as he looked away, clenching his fist on the arm of his chair.

“I’m fine,” he answered groggily, hoping he sounded believable enough, and lifted his eyes at J’onn’s face. In all honesty, though, he was _anything_ but fine. He had yet another nightmare again the previous night, the same one he’d been having ever since he found himself in this world, which had understandably chased sleep away. He hadn’t gotten more than five hours of sleep each night. And he… Well, he’d rather _not_ think about those nightmares or what they meant. “The sooner I get out of here, the better,” he continued.

J’onn didn’t seem like he believed that even one bit, yet he didn’t say anything as he sat down on the chair across Mon-El and handed him the file on the top. Mon-El opened it tentatively…only to come face to face with a very familiar face. _Lillian Luthor_. He lifted his brows.

“Cadmus?” he asked, looking at J’onn. “You think Cadmus did this?” J’onn rested his hand on the table and nodded.

“I almost eliminated them since they weren’t technically aliens,” he began explaining. “But Lex Luthor is one of the smartest people I’ve had the displeasure to meet, and it wouldn’t be a stretch to think he built a time machine.” Mon-El opened his mouth to disagree, but then stopped. Technically J’onn was right. Cadmus had been a real pain in the ass for both Kara and him years ago, and with the few technologies they had they almost got rid of all alien population in National City. It could be possible that they’d found a way to travel in time.

“Okay, I admit,” Mon-El said and straightened up, “they do have all the resources and stuff to do that, but why would they want to take out Supergirl? It doesn’t really make sense.”

“In your memories I saw that Kara was the one that defeated Cadmus.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t call her _Kara_ where Alex can hear us,” Mon-El suggested.

“Good point,” J’onn nodded before continuing. “They might’ve thought that without Supergirl, there would be no one to stop them. Or better yet, Supergirl in _your_ version of the timeline broke the stigma around aliens. Without her, people would still fear them, and it would be way easier to convince them to rally behind Cadmus.” He sighed as he rubbed his forehead. “Which is something we should’ve done as well, instead of hunting them down.”

“Wait,” Mon-El stopped him and leaned forward. “You mean in this timeline you guys are _hunting down_ aliens?”

“To tag and, if they prove to be non-threatening, release them.” J’onn shook his head. “I never thought it was the wrong thing until I saw your memories. In your world aliens aren’t feared. Yes, there’re still people that don’t like them, but as far as I can see it’s rare. Besides, people also discriminate among themselves so it isn’t such a surprise. But still, aliens are integrated into social life, and that’s something we never really worked on. Now I wish we did, because we… We should’ve.” Mon-El didn’t know what to say for a second, feeling a knot forming in his throat. He tried to swallow and get rid of it, to no avail.

“I get… I get why you couldn’t do it,” he started, scratching his cheek. “You had me working with you instead of Kara.” He avoided J’onn’s gaze and instead focused on Cadmus’s file. He flipped through the papers as he continued. “It won’t matter anyway once we fix this. But I… I don’t think it was Cadmus. I don’t know what happened to them here, but Lillian Luthor was killed in an attempt to get rid of Supergirl, and in her absence Lena took over the organization and dismantled it.” With those words, the Daxamite felt J’onn’s intense gaze on himself. “That isn’t how it happened here, right?”

“Not exactly. It was Lena that died here trying to take Lillian out of the equation. Lillian is in prison now.” Mon-El’s hand froze on the file as he looked up.

“Lena is dead?” he couldn’t help asking, not knowing what else he could say. It wasn’t like he’d ever been _that_ close with Lena, but…but she was a dear friend of Kara’s, and she helped them in many of DEOs missions. From time to time she even joined their group in the alien bar, fitting into it incredibly well. She’d even tried to help him during the first month after…after Kara’s death, when he wasn’t in a very good place. _More like when I completely went off the rails_ , his mind supplied. Not only that, Lena had made sure Supergirl was honored the way she deserved to be honored, which was something Mon-El completely failed to do.

“I’m sorry,” J’onn said, his eyes shining with the honesty of his words. Mon-El shook his head. _It won’t matter_ , he reminded himself before putting the file aside, and grabbing the next one.

“That’s Brainiac,” J’onn began explaining, “He’s given you _and_ Superman a pretty hard time two years ago. And he has the intelligence, technology, _and_ powers to time travel. He could’ve easily found a way to do that.” Mon-El lifted his brows as he opened the file, coming face to face with a green cyborg-like creature. He didn’t have to even force himself to think whether Kara and he fought with him or not: He would never be able to forget someone like _that_. He shook his head.

“It’s not him, we’ve never fought him.”

“You’ve been very lucky on that matter,” J’onn huffed as he took the file from Mon-El. Mon-El could only force a small smile on that, and then frowned.

“Talking about powerful aliens,” he started as he leaned forward and clasped his hands together, “have I fought someone named Mr. Mxyzptlk here? He’s really powerful, and he’d said he was capable of doing almost everything. He was from 5th Dimension.” J’onn frowned at that.

“Do you mean the imps?” Mon-El nodded and pressed his lips together. Granted, Kara and he didn’t defeat Mr. Mxyzptlk together, it was more like he messed everything up and Kara had to go and fix all of that _as well as_ getting rid of Mxy. But she’d done that _beautifully_ , so it wouldn’t be a stretch to believe that Mxy would think he was nothing without Kara. “No, we’ve never encountered one of them. Thankfully.” Mon-El’s shoulders slumped slightly at that, though he knew there was nothing to be surprised about. Mxyzptlk only came to earth for Kara. It could be that because she never revealed herself, he didn’t know about her existence and never came.

“Well, that makes sense,” he muttered under his breath as he leaned back and grabbed the last file. “Who’s our last susp—“ he began asking, only to come to a stop when he saw the first page of the file. His gaze shot up at J’onn. “J’onn, you don’t think…” he managed to choke out, his heart stuttering in his chest. It couldn’t be _her_ , right? How would she be able to come to earth, let alone _actually_ time travel? She was light years away in a…in a place where time didn’t exist. It was _impossible_.

“That it could be your mother? I wish I didn’t.” J’onn rested his elbow on the table, his understanding gaze finding Mon-El’s. “But you can’t deny how powerful she is.” Mon-El opened his mouth to disagree, yet nothing came out. He couldn’t even find the right things to say, because, well… J’onn was right. Rhea was powerful—and merciless—enough for something like this. She’d killed his father just because he disagreed with her, and then she went on and attacked National City to get her son back. It was also… It was also her fault Dominators came to earth, and…and Kara died. Would it really be a stretch to think she would go back in time to stop Kara from being Supergirl, so that she couldn’t influence Mon-El into becoming a hero and he would return to Daxam with her when the time came?

But it didn’t seem like it worked the way she wanted, if she was the one doing it. And there was also another problem: How would she be able to escape Phantom Zone, how would she have telekinetic powers to throw Mon-El around, or…or how could she do whatever the overcoat-villain did to his head?

“J’onn, I’m not saying she’s not capable of it, but…but you saw what the overcoat-villain did to me. He threw me into a wall without touching me, he made me lose my consciousness, and he went back in time. Rhea doesn’t have those powers. Besides, she’s in the Phantom Zone.” J’onn blinked bewilderedly at that.

“Mon-El, she is—“ Before he could continue, the door of Mon-El’s office was pushed open. The Martian immediately stopped his words when he saw Alex.

“Hey J’onn,” she said, and then her eyes turned to Mon-El. A grin spread on her face. “Pouty-face.” Mon-El shot her a glare as she entered and closed the door behind her. For the last couple of days Alex and Maggie had taken the habit of calling him that, saying most of the time he looked like a ghost walking around. Which, if Mon-El had to admit, wasn’t a lie, and he suspected one reason Alex used that nickname was to get him to spill the beans.

He doubted it would work anytime soon.

“What are you guys doing?” Alex asked, looking at the files in front of Mon-El. The Daxamite shook his head as he closed them slowly, nonchalantly, and dropped them into the box J’onn brought.

“Nothing, going through some case files,” he explained. Alex nodded, eyeing him suspiciously, before turning to J’onn.

“Can I steal J’onn for a second, then? There’s an issue with the tracker of…” She looked down at her tablet. “Alien-0219. It apparently got deactivated this morning, and we can’t reach her.” Luckily, she was too busy looking at J’onn that she missed Mon-El’s grimace. The Daxamite tried to hide it as he stood up and forced a smile.

“Of course. I have somewhere else to be anyway,” he said, looking at the time. It was 12:13, which meant he had seventeen minutes until… “Don’t wanna be late.” He grabbed his car keys and wallet and tucked them into his pocket.

“Why are you in such a hurry?” Alex asked, watching him walk to the door. A playful smile was playing on her lips as she crossed her arms. “Are you going out on a date or something?” Mon-El came to a stop with those words, whirling around to face Alex, his mind already preparing itself to say no. _Of course_ he wasn’t going on a date. He loved Kara. He’d always love Kara. How could he… How could he just forget that, how could he move on from that? Even in his best moments dating again wasn’t an option he’d considered. Kara was irreplaceable for him. Trying to fill the hole she left behind with another person… It wouldn’t work, and it would be unfair to the love they had. Maybe Kara wouldn’t see it that way, maybe she would want him to find happiness again, yet… Yet Mon-El doubted he’d be able to go on a date without feeling like he was betraying her.

The answer died on his lips. If he said no, he knew Alex would question what he was doing. And, well, besides the fact that she couldn’t find out… He couldn’t really _explain_ it either. So, instead of saying no, Mon-El forced a smile at Alex and shrugged. “Something like that,” he said, because he honestly didn’t know what else he could call it. Alex lifted her brows as an answer, her mouth falling open.

“Wait, you’re serious?” Mon-El gaped at her as she laughed, shaking her head. “Wow. The playboy finally lands a hit then. Who’s this lucky girl that captured your heart?” The words felt like a light punch to the gut. Mon-El hadn’t really spent much time figuring out what kind of a person he was in this life, he was more focused on figuring out how to get _out_ of it, yet…yet as far as he could see, he was not a good person, not even close. Yes, he was a hero, he protected National City, but mostly he was lazy, he cared very little about others except the ones he was close with, and he doubted he ever had a serious relationship. Maggie told him that he’d slept with almost half of the alien bar. That made him so sick to the stomach that he had to leave the place early that night.

The person he was here… It was just the kind of person Kara would despise, the kind of person he’d been before…before meeting her. Which proved even _more_ how much he’d needed her.

“Maybe you’ll meet her someday,” he told Alex as an answer and tucked his hands to his pockets before waving goodbye and leaving the office. He could feel Alex’s shocked and J’onn’s confused gazes on his back even as he changed into his Valor suit and jumped out of the terrace.

* * *

**_12:37_ **

Kara Danvers rarely spent her lunch breaks inside. During the three days this world… _existed_ , first she’d went out with Winn to get ice cream. Second time, to Mon-El’s surprise, she’d gone to a house he didn’t recognize. At first he thought they were her friends, but when he read Kara’s article the other day he realized she was there to just gather information for it. Apparently, the twin daughters of the family living there were missing, and they were only eight years old. Mon-El couldn’t help his smile when he read that on her article: You could always trust her to make the public care for… _anything_ , really. He’d never seen her fail at that.

And the third day, which was today, she was out again, this time with two of her coworkers Mon-El didn’t recognize. He noted in his head to check the CatCo employee list to see who they were.

_Even if it won’t matter in a couple of days_.

He watched them leave the CatCo building together, laughing at something. He wasn’t close enough to hear their laugh, but even just _seeing_ it was enough. Pain shot through his veins, so much so that he had to look away for a second. Kara looked so…so happy. So relaxed and…and content, and the more Mon-El watched her, the more he saw her interact with people around her, he couldn’t help but think…think that this could’ve been her life. If he was never in it… Because at the end what had he really _added_ to her life? Yes, she loved him, she was happy with him, but if she could’ve had that happiness without him too…

He quickly shook away his thoughts and instead focused his eyes back on Kara. He remembered what Iris told her a year ago, when he…when he first lost her. _Kara would’ve still chosen to have a life with you even if she knew how it would end_. He’d believed her then, because it was infinitely easier than the alternative. Yet… Yet now he wasn’t so sure. If Kara truly knew her options, if she knew she could be happy, would she still choose him? Or would she leave, knowing he’d eventually be her destruction?

He bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from crying and jumped to the building on his left, following Kara and her friends. They didn’t go much far from the CatCo building, only entering a Mexican restaurant two blocks away. Before entering Kara adjusted her glasses and looked up, her eyes sweeping over the tops of the buildings. Mon-El quickly stepped out of her eyesight. The first time she looked up two days ago, he was far too shocked to move away. The day before, when she did that again, he’d successfully managed to hide behind the parapet before she saw him. His heart was pounding, and he’d been so afraid she’d figure out he was…well, _stalking_ her that he couldn’t move for a couple of seconds. At least until tears filled his eyes and knotted his throat, and he had to fly away if he didn’t want to cry on the roof of some unfamiliar building. Having to hide from Kara hit him harder than he imagined, since before…in another timeline…in the past he’d run _to_ her. He’d spend… He’d use _every single chance_ he had to go see her, and he’d make sure he made the most of those moments. And now he ran _away_ from her.

Well, technically, he was the one that brought the hiding part upon himself, since he apparently couldn’t say away from her against all common sense. What good would any of this do to him? What good would it do to find out he’d _completely_ ruined Kara’s life? He had enough pain even without that. Losing her hurt more than enough.

Tentatively stepping forward, Mon-El looked at the restaurant, resting his hands on the parapet. This time he made sure he didn’t break any piece of it. It seemed like Kara and her friends went inside. They’d be leaving in about an hour, maybe even less, depending on how long their lunch break lasted.

_Leave_ , the Daxamite ordered himself. _Leave, and don’t look back. You’re gonna leave this…this timeline as soon as possible, and when you do… There’ll be no Kara. You won’t be able to watch her, or see her smile, or hear her laugh. She’ll go back to being a memory all over again, and when that happens…_

Mon-El suddenly felt breathless with the thought of that. His nails scratched the concrete under his hand so harshly that he had to stop himself before crushing it under his strength. He forced himself to straighten up. He forced himself to smooth his cape and look up. His house wasn’t far away, he could be there in a matter of seconds. He could find a way to fix all of this. He should…

_I can’t not see her again_. The thought seeped into his head before he could stop it. _I can’t get used to it again. I can’t, I can’t, I can’t_ —

He was all too glad when a thump coming from behind him stopped his train of thought. He tried to swallow hard, tried to get rid of the tears in his eyes before—

“It’s you.” The voice made him freeze in his place. His heart rate dropped at first as his mind struggled to process what was happening, but then it tripled in a matter of _milliseconds_. He wasn’t even sure he was breathing as he lifted his head and turned back before he even _thought_ about turning back. He felt numb all over; he couldn’t feel the wind on his face, or the cape that brushed his legs, or the ground underneath his feet. It was her, it was _her voice_. How could he expect to think anyway?

Kara was standing a couple of feet away from him, almost breathless as her eyes found his. They were shining with…with joy, excitement, thrill; Mon-El couldn’t point out which one of them trumped the others. Her hair that had been so neatly pulled back from her face was now all over her eyes and tumbling down her cheeks, the ends brushing her shoulders. They were shorter than Mon-El remembered, he couldn’t help but notice. He felt an indescribable urge to reach forward and push those strands away from her face, knowing how much it must’ve been bothering her. It was a good thing his muscles weren’t listening to his mind, or else…or else he might _actually_ end up doing just that, and he doubted it’d end well.

His eyes fell to her lips, which were split into a huge grin. She had a light pink lip gloss that a few strands of her hair got stuck to. Lifting her hand she quickly pushed them away and took off her glasses in the process. Her…her comet-like eyes trained on him. He felt air leaving his lungs— _literally_. They looked even _more_ beautiful than he remembered. All those photos of her, all those videos, all of his memories… None of them had done one bit of justice to them. Her eyes were bright and glittery, were shimmering in all the shades of blue as light reflected off of them, they captured you and pulled you in, so much so that…that he couldn’t look away. He couldn’t even _say_ anything.

“I _knew_ I’d seen you the other day,” Kara continued, stepping forward. “I feel ridiculous that I didn’t realize it the moment you took off your glasses at the parking lot, but I was…” She shook her head, dismissing her thoughts. “Anyway, that’s not the point. The point is that, Valor, you’re… You’re him. You’re _Mon-El_.” Hearing her say his name felt like a bullet through his heart. It rolled off her tongue so easily, so naturally that Mon-El had a hard time believing she didn’t know him before. It just… It _fit_ her.

He felt tears threatening his eyes. He quickly blinked them away and willed himself to focus, to pull himself together and not fall apart. He couldn’t fall apart now. This wasn’t his Kara. He needed to remember that. This was just…just another version of her. Granted, no change in timeline could truly affect her personality, but he couldn’t forget that he hadn’t spent five years with…with this woman. He didn’t know her quirks, her habits, her likes or dislikes; he didn’t spent years watching her, memorizing her, engraving every single thing about her in his mind. And… And this Kara didn’t spend _her_ years watching and observing him, she didn’t love him like…like _his_ Kara did. It would be so easy, _too_ easy to believe those two were the same person based on their similarities, yet there were also six years of difference between them.

“Kara,” he managed to whisper finally, his voice hoarse with tears building up in his throat. “What are you… What are you doing here?” Kara looked taken aback with his words and blinked.

“What am I… I needed to _see_ you,” she tried explaining. “I was gonna come the other day, but before I could you were gone.” She trained her intense gaze on Mon-El, arching her brow. Stopping himself from grimacing took every ounce of Mon-El’s willpower. Kara arched her brows just like that too, especially when she was angry at him. And…and there’d sometimes be a crinkle on her forehead that indicated she was either lying or frustrated. It seemed like it was the latter now.

Mon-El quickly turned his eyes away when memories started to fill his mind and threatened to suffocate him. Instead he focused on his feet, his fingers curling into fists at his sides. There would probably be nail marks on his palms later, not that he had the energy to care about it.

Kara ducked her chin to look at his face. “You came to CatCo’s parking lot,” she continued, edging closer to him, “and you told me that we—we _knew_ each other. That your name is _Mon-El_.” Her lips curled into a small smile as her eyes turned to Mon-El’s arms. “You hugged me, and almost for the first time in years I actually _felt_ it when someone hugged me.” She seemed like she got lost in her thoughts as her eyes transfixed on Mon-El’s chest. “And that’s a big deal for someone who’s barely felt any touch for almost twenty years.” She looked so overjoyed by that fact when she lifted her head, just as the Kara Mon-El knew would enjoy the simplest things in life, that the Daxamite felt breathless. He could see that Kara was waiting for him to say something, to maybe explain things, yet he…he lacked the words to say anything, let alone actually explain something. Besides, what would he say to Kara? She was the love of his life? They’d known each other for years in…in _another timeline_? They’ve been engaged—well, he’d actually gotten _that_ part out.

“Aren’t you gonna say something?” Kara asked when the silence stretched, and tucked her hair behind her ear nervously. “Why are you… Why are you staring at me like you’ve just seen a ghost?”

This time Mon-El was sure he’d winced visibly. _Because it’s exactly like I’m seeing a ghost_.

“What do you want me to say?” he managed to ask hoarsely. He had no idea how he got the words out, how he managed to say something intelligible despite the whirlwind of thoughts and emotions coursing through his mind. Kara gaped at him for one second with his words, and then spread her arms.

“I don’t know! Maybe… Maybe explain how you knew I was an alien? Or… Or how you _knew_ me at all?”

_You were my fiancée_ , Mon-El thought. _At least until you…_

“I – I’m…Valor,” he said instead, remembering what J’onn told him that morning. “I make a point to know every alien in the city.” At least that was true since the DEO here basically had records of _every alien in the city_ , if not in the whole country. “I need to know… I need to know if any of them poses a threat.” Somehow, the lie rolled off his tongue much easier than the truth would’ve.

“Wow, okay,” Kara said, shaking her head. “That’s not creepy at all.” Mon-El tried to shrug nonchalantly.

“I do what I have to in order to protect National City,” he said and forced a smile. “Protect civilians above all else, right?” _That was what you always told me._ A small smile almost pulled Kara’s lips too, as if…as if somehow those words resonated with her. Mon-El knew there was _no way_ she’d remember any of that, but in a way she would probably share the same values with Supergirl, even though…even though she wasn’t her in this timeline.

“Yeah, of course,” she whispered as her hands reached for her glasses to adjust them, but then stopped short when she realized they were in her hand. She tucked them in her back pocket. “Anyway,” she changed the topic, her eyes shining with a newfound enthusiasm. “That’s not what I came here to ask.” She opened her palms in front of her and pointed at the Daxamite. “Your name is Mon-El,” she stated almost matter-of-factly, stepping forward. “That’s… That’s a Kryptonian name, right? Like… Like Zor-El, or Kal-El.” Her gaze flickered to Mon-El’s. “Don’t tell me you’re my long-lost distant relative that I didn’t even know about.” A soft chuckle left Mon-El’s lips at that without his intention as he ducked his chin. The laugh died quickly.

“No, I’m… I’m not,” he admitted, trying to speak over the knot lodged in his throat. He tried to keep himself from grimacing as he took a deep breath. He could’ve never— _never_ —imagined how _hard_ it would be to say the next words. “I’m not from Krypton.” He glanced up through his lashes, afraid to see her reaction. There was a confused expression on her face as she shook her head.

“But I thought… I mean, the name was—“

“Very specific?” Mon-El interrupted Kara without being able to help himself. Kara looked at him with her mouth opened for a second, but then she clamped her lips shut. She was waiting for him to continue, yet…yet Mon-El didn’t know what to say. Well, he did know what to say actually. He needed to tell her… He needed to tell her what planet he was from. Yes, that’d mean she’d hate him, just like she had when they first met, but… But did it really matter? If this timeline was only temporary, if nothing he did here would change his life back in the real world, what difference did it make if Kara hated him or not? It would only mean he wouldn’t be able to see her again before he reset the timeline.

With that thought, air suddenly left his lungs and got stuck in his throat, blocking the way of the words. He could feel them there, lining up behind the knot, yet he couldn’t…he couldn’t _get them out_.

“Mon-El?” Kara asked, anxiety seeping into her features. Mon-El forced himself to slip out of his thoughts with her voice. “Are you okay? You just… You paled a bit.” Clearing his throat, the Daxamite looked away from Kara and gulped, several times, until he managed to find his voice again.

“My planet was close to Krypton,” he whispered, knowing no matter how quietly he spoke Kara would hear it, and… Well, that was a good thing, because he was scared he wouldn’t be able to control his tears if he spoke loudly. “You could say… You could say they were sister planets.” He just couldn’t say the name out loud as he trained his hand to Kara’s feet. He was afraid to look at her face and see her reaction. She was wearing brown flat shoes matching with her light-brown pants, and she’d paired those with a pink-cropped sweater and white shirt coming out from underneath it. Mon-El even inadvertently recognized the sweater; he’d seen Kara wear it several times.

Silence stretched between them as neither him or Kara said anything. He knew that Kara understood what he was talking about; Krypton had only _one_ sister planet.

“Wait,” the Kryptonian broke the silence finally. “You’re from _Daxam_?” Disbelief had colored her tone. Mon-El could feel her eyes on him, and knew he had to say something, but it was easier to _think_ that than _do_ it. If it was a couple of years ago, when they first met, he’d probably answer her apprehension with an insult of his own—and he’d done that a couple of times—but that was…well, that was _years ago_. He’d changed since then, and realized…realized that not everything on Daxam was acceptable. He’d been a lot of things there that he despised now. So words just died on his lips as he looked up at her. “But that’s…impossible,” she blurted out. Mon-El winced with her words.

“Why, because Daxamites are horrible?” he asked, his voice completely devoid of judgment or bitterness. He sounded just…defeated. It wasn’t like what he said was wrong. “Because we’re partiers, we’re selfish, we don’t care about anyone but ourselves? Yeah, I’ve heard that before.” His voice shook with those last words as he ducked his chin. _It was you that told me those, and you were right_.

“Your planet was a slave-trading monarch,” Kara argued, stepping forward to get his attention. There were barely three feet between them now. Mon-El’s breath got hitched in his throat as he involuntarily looked up. Kara’s gaze was fixed on his face, her blue eyes burning in a dark shade of blue with frustration. “You… Your _entire_ _race_ thought nothing but themselves. Do you really expect me to believe you could be a – a – “

“Hero?” Mon-El supplied, his voice breaking. “I’m… I’m not a hero, Kara.” Emotions clogged his throat as he struggled to breathe, yet he forced himself to continue. Every word that came out of his mouth felt like another bullet in the chest, especially since…since every single one of them was true. “Yes, I protect National City from criminals, I fight dangerous aliens, and make sure this city is safe, but…but there’s more to being a hero than that.” _Heroes don’t give up. They fight every single day, no matter what they’re going through. They make sure everyone is not only protected, but also happy and content and loved, especially…especially the people they’re closest to. And they surely honor their loved ones in the best way possible. I didn’t do any of that._ The words got stuck in his throat as he stared into Kara’s eyes. “And I’m not worthy to fit the criteria.” He felt Kara’s eyes search his face when he stopped, his eyes were focused on a spot behind her. He could feel the tears welling up in his eyes as he tried to swallow them back. It didn’t work.

_I’m so sorry Kara_. The words echoed in his mind without his intent. _I’m sorry I couldn’t go on in your absence. I’m sorry I gave up and stopped protecting this city. I’m sorry I couldn’t give you a proper funeral—something that you deserved. And I’m sorry I – I disappointed you when you believed in me wholeheartedly. I’m sorry I let you down_. He wanted to say all of that to Kara. He wanted her to know exactly how much…how much he wished he could change all of that—how much he wished he could’ve lived up to her beliefs. Yet… Yet he’d never be able to be who she believed he was, would he? He was too broken for that, too much…too much of a _coward_. It hurt too badly to be that person, and instead of fighting that pain head on he’d run away. He wasn’t a hero. Maybe there was a time he deserved that title, when Kara was alive, but he’d discarded it when he chose to stop fighting in her absence. Because there really was more to it to being a hero than just punching some bad guy in the face, and all he’d been doing in the name of heroism for the previous year was punching bad guys in the face.

Kara’s voice distracted him from his thoughts. “I was wrong,” she whispered, blinking her tears away. Disappointment was visible on her face. “I thought you were a Kryptonian, just like…just like me. A Kryptonian and…and a hero. I actually thought…” She closed her eyes at that and shook her head. “I was wrong.” Mon-El winced visibly with her words, feeling like someone had grabbed his heart and squeezing it.

“Kara,” he whispered as he tried to reach for her, but she pulled her hand back.

“Don’t touch me,” she warned him, hissing between her clenched teeth, and shook her head again. “I should’ve known you’d be nothing more than a manipulative Daxamite who uses others feelings. Do you even… Do you even care about the people you protect? Or do you just protect them to feel better about yourself, so that you could brag about being a hero?” Mon-El opened his mouth to answer, meaning to tell her exactly _what_ being a hero meant to him, yet…yet the words died on his tongue. Not even that, he couldn’t _think_ of anything to say, because…because he didn’t have an answer to her question. He didn’t know why he was a hero, why he continued to wear his cape every day when it brought nothing but pain to him. He didn’t have an answer other than the fact that it was his duty, and that…that only proved the truth of her words.

And he really didn’t want them to be true.

Kara continued when he didn’t answer, laughing humorlessly. “I should’ve known.” With that, she turned back, getting ready to leave.

“Wait, Kara!” The words left Mon-El’s mouth without his intention. Kara stopped with them, yet she didn’t turn her face to him. Mon-El bit the inside of his cheek. “Can I… Can I ask you something? Before you go? If you promise to…to answer me honestly.” Kara didn’t say anything, waiting for him to keep going. A heaviness settled on his shoulder as he tried to find the right words. Find _any_ word, really, that would convey what he was trying to say. It would’ve been infinitely easier if he wasn’t so afraid of the answer she might give.

He was about to give up before he could finally voice the question. “Are you happy?” he asked, his voice quivering. He wondered if she could hear the shakiness. “With… With your life. Are you truly happy with what you have?” His throat knotted as he waited for her answer, counting his heartbeats that were ringing in his ears. He wasn’t even sure he was breathing.

Kara turned to him a couple of seconds—and about twenty heartbeats—later, her eyes as cold as two chips of eyes. “Yes, I am,” she answered confidently, jutting out her chin. “I’ve never been happier.” She gazed at Mon-El’s face for one more second before closing her eyes, jumped into the air and disappeared behind the building.

It took Mon-El way longer than it should to gather the pieces of his broken heart, wipe away the tears that were now continuously flowing down his cheeks, and go to his house before he broke into sobs.

* * *

**_17:52_ **

“You look horrible,” J’onn commented the moment Mon-El exited from the prison cell, shutting the door behind him. He shot a glare at the Martian as he walked up to him and stood by his side, looking at the alien he just threw inside the cell. She was knocked out cold and lying on the floor now. As far as he could gather from Alex, it was the alien that deactivated her tracker, and she’d been on a robbing spree when they found her.

Maybe those trackers really did work.

J’onn leaned his head forward to look at Mon-El’s face, his eyes narrowed as if he was trying to decide something. He froze after a couple of seconds. “Were you crying?” he asked, surprise clouding his features. Clenching his teeth, Mon-El didn’t even bother to look at J’onn. Instead he crossed his arms and focused on a spot on the floor, his nails biting into his suit. He made sure the nail marks on his palm were out of J’onn’s eyesight. The man didn’t need to know how _broken_ he felt, or…or how he’d spent his afternoon on the floor of his apartment, crying and crying and crying until he had no tears left, sobbing until he lost all sense of self, feeling like somebody was ripping his gut into shreds and tearing apart his lungs and clawing at his heart. He wasn’t sure how long he’d cried, but by the time his sobs became too painful to continue his throat was burning, and his cheeks and hands were wet enough that it was hard to believe all of that was just his tears. He’d never felt so _disgusted_ of himself in his life, and he’d thought that was impossible considering how he felt immediately after Kara’s death.

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” he muttered as he blinked away his tears, and instead looked at the file at the Martian’s hands. J’onn didn’t seem like he believed him.

“Mon-El, are you sure you’re—“

“I said I don’t want to talk about it,” Mon-El cut his words with a hiss, looking up. J’onn didn’t even seem surprised as pain flickered in his eyes. “Let’s just get over with this, okay?” _So that I can get the hell out of here and spend the rest of the day in bed_. The Daxamite pulled the file from J’onn’s hands and opened it. “So, what do we have here?” He felt a slight pain in his mind before J’onn started talking, but it disappeared too fast that he just attributed it to the excruciating headache he already had. It felt like somebody had been splitting his brain in two for two hours now, so much so that he’d gotten used to it.

“Her name is Rosamunde Zarak, coming from—“

“Planet Io, I know,” Mon-El interrupted, looking at the alien. “I thought they were peaceful creatures, no planet really had a problem with that.” _Except Daxam of course, since my parents weren’t so fond of their peacefulness_.

“They were, until they landed on earth and acquired enhanced abilities. As far as we know about her, she has heightened senses and can detect stimuli five times lower than any human’s threshold.” J’onn glanced at Mon-El briefly with a worried gaze. Mon-El ignored it as he closed the file in his hands.

“Nice,” he muttered dryly as he handed it to J’onn. “And now she’s behind bars.” Clearing his throat, he turned to J’onn, noticing all too clearly that the Martian had been studying him for some time now. “I think my job here is done; you can file her in on your own, right?”

“Mon-El?” J’onn said softly instead of answering the question. “You went to see Kara.” The Daxamite felt his blood go cold with those words. Even hearing Kara’s name was enough to bring all that pain back that he’d been trying to shut out.

“How di—“ His shoulders slumped with the realization. “You read my mind.” J’onn didn’t even look guilty as he nodded.

“I’m worried about you, Mon-El,” he admitted, looking into the Daxamite’s eyes. “I realize this isn’t the you that I know, but that doesn’t change that I care about you. We all do. You’re… You’re breaking yourself apart over what happened to _your_ Kara, and it…it’s hard to watch. We just want you to be okay.” Mon-El felt a pang of pain in his chest.

“How… How do you expect me to be okay?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper. “You must’ve seen what happened with Kara. You saw what she _told_ me.” He had to stop and take a deep breath before he continued. “She’s happy. In this life, without me, she’s…she’s happy. I always told myself that…that even though she is gone, I still made her happy. That she’d want to be with me even if… Even if she knew how it’d end, because she _loved_ me and she was _happy_ with me. But… But she didn’t need me to be happy.” Tears filled his eyes as he clenched fists so tightly that his knuckles whitened. “I didn’t only take away her life, J’onn, I took away the happiness she could’ve had. Because of me she’ll…she’ll never get the chance to find that happiness. She…” His voice trailed off as tears threatened to overwhelm him.

“You can’t know that, Mon-El,” J’onn said, putting a soothing hand on his arm. Mon-El pushed it away quickly, his eyes trained a spot inside the prison cell. He couldn’t even see the alien clearly anymore because of the tears in his eyes.

“I can,” he whispered as he turned to the Martian, furiously wiping a tear that started sliding down his cheek. He cleared his throat to get rid of the hoarseness in his voice. “I’m sorry, I… I have to go.” With that, before J’onn could do or say anything to stop him, he whirled around and left the room.

He almost didn’t notice it. He was too busy wiping away his endless tears as he ran down the corridors, barely paying attention to his surroundings. He even crashed into a DEO agent, and he was pretty sure he bruised her shoulder. He didn’t pay attention to the doors of other cells he was passing by, holding numerous alien criminals. And he would’ve passed by the door numbered 0023 too, if it wasn’t for the voice that filled his ears, calling his name. He didn’t know what caught his attention first, his name or the familiarity of the tone.

“Mon-El.”

Mon-El’s steps halted a couple of steps away from the room as he finally managed to get rid of all the haziness of tears and register the voice. His heart stopped in his chest as he looked up, his tears long forgotten. He must’ve heard wrong, right? There was no way— _no way_ —for her to be here. He’d made sure she wouldn’t be able to come back, not even if _decades_ have passed. Not… _ever_.

Turning around he approached the door slowly, almost afraid of what he would see inside. He pushed it completely open, and came face to face with a prison cell, much like the one he just threw Rosamunde Zarak into, only with a different woman inside. The woman was looking at him with a cold half-smile on her face. She lifted her chin when she saw him. “And here I was wondering when you’d notice I was here.” Mon-El blinked several times, waiting for her to disappear, yet it didn’t work. She was still there, she was still staring at him, and her smile was still slowly widening with each second.

“Mother?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooooo after that reveal... Who's wondering what the _hell_ is going on?


	10. The Right Thing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey y'all!
> 
> right now, i'm so glad that i'd went ahead with my plan for this story and wrote until chapter 14 (yup, 14), because if i'd written it according to my original plan, there was no way i could've posted this chapter right now, because, well, i have six exams next week in five days, and last week i've had five of them. there was NO WAY i could've written it. BUT, fortunately i did, so you won't have to wait more after that cliffhanger on the last chapter ;)
> 
> anyway, without further ado, i hope you like this chapter! i feel like a lot will be explained in it, so if you're confused or have any questions, please let me know :)
> 
> also, i barely know ANYTHING about comic books, so the character references in this chapter are based on the Supergirl show and my own imagination. just wanted to point that up if it ended up being different than the comic books :)

**25 th of March, 2022**

**_18:04_ **

“Mother?” Mon-El whispered, stepping into the room slowly. His heart was pounding in his chest, even more so than a couple of seconds ago, as his eyes traveled on her. She had a ragged dress on that must’ve been black once but looked greyer now. Her hair was falling on her shoulders in messy curls, as if she tried hard to straighten them up but it didn’t work. Her face was pale, there were purple circles underneath them, and she looked like she’d lost more than a couple of pounds since the last time Mon-El saw her. The last time when she was in a _pod_ , whose course was set to _Phantom Zone_.

She was supposed to be in _Phantom Zone_ now.

“You seem surprised,” Rhea observed, pursing her lips with distaste. “Close your mouth, it’s inappropriate to gape at people. Or have you forgotten that in my absence?” Mon-El didn’t even bother to clamp his mouth shut as he stepped forward.

“You can’t be here,” he whispered, his voice quivering. “We—We sent you away. We made sure you could never come back. You should be in…” His voice trailed off when realization hit him in the head. Of course. This wasn’t the Rhea he and Kara sent off of Earth. This was… This was her alternate version. In the changed timeline. And apparently here, he hadn’t sent her anywhere; instead she was…

“Phantom Zone?” Rhea suggested before Mon-El could say anything else. “Well, I was hoping we’d be on Daxam, building a new planet for our subjects, but it seems like neither of us got what we hoped for.” Mon-El gaped at her, struggling to process her words as she walked to her cot and sat on it. The next words came out of his mouth almost in a daze; so much so that he didn’t even think about how she could’ve known about Phantom Zone.

“We’ve _sent_ you to Phantom Zone. Me and…” His heart constricted when her name seeped into his thoughts. He had to shut his eyes and take a second to keep the tears from flowing down. “In another timeline, we did,” he corrected himself, his shoulders slumping with resignation.

_So this is why J’onn mentioned her this morning._ The Martian could’ve thought that…that maybe, in Mon-El’s version of events Rhea escaped from DEO’s captivity and traveled back in time. He couldn’t have known that she’d been in…

Not that it mattered much now, and the last thing Mon-El wanted after…after _everything_ that he’d been through that day was to have a chat with his _mother_.

“Not that you’d know anything about it,” he muttered, shaking his head. He was getting ready to turn around and leave when Rhea’s words literally rooted him in place.

“About the trick you and Kara pulled on me?” she asked, bitterness dripping from her voice. Mon-El’s head snapped up as she continued. “About what happened to both of you after you sent me to Phantom Zone?” He turned around to face her, finding her walking slowly to the edge of her cell. A small smile was pulling her lips; otherwise, her face was completely devoid of emotion.

“How—“ he began asking, yet Rhea cut his words.

“I told you I knew many things, Mon-El. Or did you forget that?” Mon-El stared at his mother with wide eyes as the familiarity of her words hit him. And all of a sudden, it wasn’t her that was standing in front of his eyes, but it was someone wearing an overcoat and a hat. _I know many things now,_ he was telling Mon-El. _I know Supergirl is Kara Danvers. I know you were engaged before she died. And I know this time, I won’t let you defeat me as I did all those years ago._ He blinked several times, those words echoing inside his head, and suddenly… suddenly everything fell into place. All those pieces of evidence about the overcoat-villain’s identity that seemed too unrelated came together, and now he could see the whole picture. It was her. The overcoat-villain was _his mother._

“You did this,” he whispered, stepping closer to the cell. Rhea only lifted her chin slightly, without showing any reaction. “You went back in time and…and stopped Kara from becoming Supergirl. You _created_ this timeline.” A superior look crossed his mother’s eyes as he struggled to find the right words. _“How?”_ How could she have escaped Phantom Zone and…and returned to Earth, let alone…let alone actually have the powers to _throw_ him into a wall without touching him, cause him an indescribable headache, or _travel in time_? She was powerful, yes, but not _that_ much.

Rhea sighed, shaking her head ever so slightly. “I should’ve expected that it would take time for you to understand; you were never that good at it anyway. Your father and I always needed to shove the facts in your face for you to grasp all of them.” Mon-El winced with those words, but he quickly shook them away.

“Don’t make this about me,” he hissed, clenching his teeth. It was the only way to keep his voice from quivering. “Kara and I put you in that pod. Winn set the coordinates to Phantom Zone. There was no way you could’ve—“

“Escaped?” Amusement twinkled in Rhea’s eyes. She seemed to be enjoying this. “I wouldn’t have. Your plan was brilliantly put together, I have to admit. But it seems you’ve underestimated the distance I would need to travel, and everything that could happen in between.” She shrugged nonchalantly. “Space is a vast and unpredictable place; any meteor could steer you off course, and instead of Phantom Zone you could find yourself in 5th Dimension.”

_5 th Dimension? _

Mon-El stopped short with the name as all those memories, both from Daxam and from Earth, filled his mind; memories of those imps that were literally capable of doing anything, ranging from telekinesis and teleportation to maybe even time travel. There was a reason he asked J’onn about Mr. Mxyzptlk: The imp was the only person he could think of off the top of his head that could _and_ would want to cause this mess.

He lifted his head as it hit him. He’d been correct about Mxy, but just not in the right way. It wasn’t him, or his kind, that made all this happen, but it was…it was someone that lived with them for Rao knew how many years. Somehow… Somehow Rhea must’ve learned how to do all that stuff from them, and considering the range of abilities Mxy had, Mon-El wouldn’t be surprised if one of them was granting someone else powers. And with those, Rhea could’ve easily…

“It finally makes sense, doesn’t it?” Rhea asked before Mon-El could say anything, probably seeing the realization in his eyes. He bit the inside of his cheek harshly to keep himself together, to try and keep all his broken pieces from falling apart. _She’d_ caused all of this. Rhea had taken his childhood, his home, his love from him, and now…and now she’d also taken the _life_ he’d had with Kara. All those memories, all those years spent together, all that love… It was _gone_ because of her. Granted, Mon-El wasn’t even close to being happy when the timeline changed, but at least he was keeping all those in his heart. At least they were _real_. Now…now they were erased from time, just like that, and…

And he snapped. He didn’t even think as he stepped forward and slammed his palm to the cell’s window, startling even his mother. There was a time he thought that would be impossible. “You did this!” he yelled, his voice shaking with anger and despair. “You did this to me! You took away _everything_ that I had.” He was breathing heavily as all those feelings he’d been keeping inside, all that frustration, helplessness, pain and disgust swirling in his stomach and threatening to make him sick, rushed out of him. He couldn’t hide them anymore. It was too much, it’d been too much for too long, and he couldn’t take it. Tears welled up in his eyes as his fingers curled into a fist over the glass. He didn’t even bother to hide his tears. “You destroyed my childhood, you killed my father, you made me believe I would _never_ be worthy of anything. And…and when I actually found a home here with Kara you tried to take that away from me.” His voice cracked in the middle with the heaviness that fell over him. He could feel the rage that fueled his words dissipating slowly, leaving behind only pain in its place. “Wasn’t it enough? Did you have to take away all the memories I had with her too? As if… As if they meant nothing to me—“

“I was doing what was best for you,” his mother countered, stepping closer to the glass. Despite her ragged clothes and collapsed cheek, the fire in her eyes was cold and calculated, as if she was _sure_ she was right. “If it wasn’t for that Kryptonian, you would’ve come back with us to Daxam. We would’ve been _together_ as a family.”

“So you took her out of the picture completely.” Mon-El wanted to sound more forceful, but his voice started shaking mid-sentence. He dropped his hand to his side, feeling his vision blur because of the tears. He blinked them away. “Well, mother, it seems like your plan failed.” _Except the part where you wanted to destroy everything that I loved_. Tears threatened to consume him as he stepped back, putting distance between him and Rhea. “Now you know. I’d never come with you, not even if I didn’t have Kara.” He whirled around to leave, his body shaking all over, refusing to break down in front of his mother. She would find a way to use it to get an upper hand, or at least to taunt him. And he was suffering enough as it was.

“Maybe you should’ve,” Rhea said, stopping him before he could get far. Mon-El clenched his fists without turning to her, and instead took a deep breath to calm his nerves. She continued without waiting for an answer. “ _Kara_ would’ve been alive if you had.” She’d spat out her name as if it was poison.

Air left Mon-El’s lungs as he couldn’t help turning around. “You think it was my fault?” he choked out, pointing at himself with a shaky hand. A part of him couldn’t help wishing he sounded surer of himself. “ _You_ were the one that tried to kill her multiple times. _You_ were the one that wanted to take her away from me, and it was because of _you_ that the Dominators came on earth. It was _your fault_ —“

“And I would’ve have done none of that,” Rhea interrupted him and stepped forward, “if you had come with me. She would be alive now. Alive _and_ safe.” The words felt like two hands wrapped around Mon-El’s neck, squeezing it until he couldn’t breathe anymore. He felt his heart pounding in his chest as he struggled to find an answer, and it would’ve been… It would’ve been a whole lot easier if his mother hadn’t hit the nail right on the head. If her words were all lies.

“That’s not—“ he tried to say, but his objection was weak. He couldn’t even say the last word before his mother chimed in.

“It isn’t?” she asked, lifting her brow. “Then look me in the eye right now, Mon-El, and tell me that Kara couldn’t be happy without you. Tell me she wouldn’t be better off if you hadn’t been in her life, and I will let this go.” She stared at Mon-El intensely with her brown eyes, waiting for him to speak. And he _tried_ , he really did. He opened his mouth, he forced the words—any word—out, yet nothing came. He couldn’t say anything, because…because what could he really say anyway? He’d seen it with his own eyes a couple of hours ago. Kara was happy--she’d _never been_ _happier_ —without him in his life. If he’d never come, or if he left as his mother said… This could’ve been her life, plus also being Supergirl. Either way, she would be happy.

“You can’t say that, because you know I’m telling the truth.” she said, a victorious small smile on her face. Mon-El clamped his mouth shut and turned his eyes away, trying to push out the memories from the morning. His mother continued when he stayed silent. “You’ve seen it, didn’t you?” The question made Mon-El turn to him again, only to see the amusement flickering in her eyes. “You’re not just guessing, you _know_ it.” She stopped to check something on her son’s face before continuing. “She’s alive in this timeline. You’ve seen _her_.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Mon-El managed to croak silently, yet Rhea ignored his words.

“You’ve gone to see her knowing she was happier without you, knowing all you did was ruin her life, because you couldn’t stay away. You _can’t_ stay away from her.” Her eyes traveled on Mon-El as she shook her head. “Pathetic, really.”

“You don’t know anything about me,” Mon-El countered, clenching his teeth, changing the subject before his mother could talk more about Kara. Every word that came out of her mouth about the Kryptonian… It felt like another blow to his heart, another piece of it breaking off and falling away—if anything was left of course. He had to change the subject, or else… “You don’t know anything about Kara. We loved each other. In the real world, we _loved_ each other, and that counts for something.” Maybe if he said it enough times, he’d start to believe it too. “And you’re gonna give that back to me. You’ll go back in time and prevent yourself from changing it.” _You have to_. Mon-El didn’t know if he’d be able to survive in this changed timeline a day more.

“I can’t,” Rhea said matter-of-factly, her gaze never leaving Mon-El’s. He clenched his teeth with her answer.

“It wasn’t a _request_ , it was an _order_. If you ever want to have a life outside of that cell, you will fix the damage you’ve caused.” His voice shook at the end as the memory of Kara from this timeline seeped into his thoughts. _I’ve never been happier_ , she was saying, and those words echoed inside his mind. Not only that, he also saw her on the street, laughing with Winn and eating ice cream. He saw her with her coworkers, smiling her carefree smile as they talked. And… And he saw her, just as she’d been in his dream the other day—or nightmare, more accurately—looking at him intensely, judgmentally, her cold gaze slicing his insides. _You’re gonna change the timeline_ , she was telling him with an icy voice, _knowing what it will do to me? Are you gonna kill me again?_

He got rid of all of those thoughts before he lost his incentive. He needed it desperately if he ever wanted his mother to do what he wanted. What he _should_ want. This timeline wasn’t right, and no matter…no matter what it might _mean_ to Kara or him, he needed to fix it. That was what a hero would do. And at the end Kara— _his_ Kara—believed he was a hero.

“Don’t you think I would if I could?” Rhea asked, bitterness audible in her voice. She opened her palm and looked at it, as if willing for something to appear. “Unfortunately, my body here doesn’t have the powers I gained in 5th Dimension.” She looked up at her son. “If I did, neither of us would be here right now.” Mon-El opened his mouth to say she was lying, but stopped short. There was no lie in her gaze, and besides, she was right. He was sure he’d be on Daxam by now if she could do _something_ about it. “Besides, I doubt you’d really want to change the timeline. You don’t have it in you.” Mon-El froze with her words.

“What are you talking about?” he whispered, worried that if he talked any louder he wouldn’t be able to repress the sobs building in his throat anymore. He was already sure his mother could see it as she shrugged.

“You know what going back and changing the timeline means,” she said nonchalantly, her eyes turning briefly at Mon-El’s clenched fists. He could feel his nails biting into his palm and the whitening of his knuckles, yet still he couldn’t pry his fingers open. “It means Kara will be gone again, forever. And you’re not even strong enough to stay away from her, let alone letting her go permanently. You’ve never been strong enough to do the right thing.” She shook her head with disgust. “You’ve always been so weak.”

Mon-El could only answer a couple of seconds later. By that time he wasn’t even sure if his arms were shaking because of anger or pain. “I will find a way,” he tried to promise, yet it only sounded like a weak attempt to convince not even his mother but himself. “I won’t let you win. Not this time. You might’ve taken everything else from me, but you won’t take away my memories.” He clenched his jaw as he looked over his mother. “And once I go back, I’ll… I’ll make sure you won’t be able to hurt anyone again. You have my word on that.” With that he whirled around, just as tears pooled in his eyes again, and started walking to the door. He only stopped as he processed what he said, and realization hit him. He turned around slowly.

“I remember the real timeline,” he stated, looking at his mother. She lifted her brow as if urging him to continue. “No one else does, but I do. Why?” He honestly didn’t expect her to answer as quickly as she did.

“Because I made you remember,” she said, her gaze boring into Mon-El. “Remember that headache? It wasn’t just to knock you down. It was to make sure you wouldn’t forget the real version of events.” Confusion filled Mon-El’s eyes at that, making her chuckle. “You sentenced me to an eternity in Phantom Zone. I thought it would be only fair to punish you to a lifetime of pain.” Mon-El felt his stomach twist with disgust. He couldn’t even believe, as he looked at his mother now, that there was a time he believed she loved him, that she was _capable_ of love. Now all he saw was someone who only cared about what she wanted, and would stop at nothing to get it. Even if it meant hurting her own son.

“And you think I’d thank you for that?” he asked, remembering what she’d told about that. “You think I’d thank you for…for making me go through all this pain?”

“Yes,” Rhea said with a scarily confident voice. Mon-El shook his head with disbelief.

“You’re delusional,” he whispered. “If you think I’d want that. You’re…”

“If everything went according to plan, the change I’d made in the timeline would bring Kara back to life,” his mother interjected before he could continue. “And you’d be too far from her to ruin her life. So yes, you would be thankful, because despite all that pain you would be going through, you’d know that I gave Kara the life she deserved when you couldn’t.” She let the words sink in as she kept her eyes on Mon-El, watching as the first tears spilled down his cheeks. His stomach was churning as he spun around and almost ran out of the room, his cape trailing behind him. That was the only thing he could do because the more he stayed in that room, the more he realized how he didn’t have an objection to any of Rhea’s words, and he couldn’t take it. He couldn’t take her being right.

He’d never wished for someone to be wrong more.

* * *

**26 th of March, 2022**

**_10:25_ **

The punching bag was swinging back and forth under the force of Mon-El’s punches. It was reinforced to sustain his super strength, yet it still looked like its seams would burst if he kept going as he did. The problem was, though… Mon-El didn’t want to stop.

He could feel the burning in his shoulder blades as he landed another punch. Instead of slowing down he welcomed the ache, letting it wash away the painful memories that had been haunting him since the previous day. Since he realized that he’d utterly and irrevocably ruined Kara’s life.

_I’ve never been happier._ Kara’s voice filled his mind as she appeared in front of his eyes, taking his breath away for a second. He quickly blinked away the image and instead hit the punching bag again, and again, until no trace of her was left. Yet the sound of his hand connecting with the bag couldn’t block the voices in his head.

_Tell me that Kara couldn’t be happy without you_. _Tell me she wouldn’t be better off if you hadn’t been in her life_. He hit the bag right in the middle with all that he had, so much so that it almost came off its hinges. Still his knuckles didn’t hurt with the impact, not even a little bit, because of his invincible skin.

He’d never wanted them to hurt this much.

_You let her die. If she never knew you, if you stayed the hell away from her she’d have been alive_. Alex’s words echoed in his mind when, for a split second, he lost his focus. Clenching his teeth he pushed back the memory and turned his attention to his hands, this time hitting the side of the punching back. Yet the words kept ringing in his ears, torturing him, twisting his stomach with each sentence.

_You’d be too far from her to ruin her life_. His left arm shook when his knuckles connected with the soft material.

“Mon-El.”

_You would be thankful, because despite all that pain you would be going through, you’d know that I gave Kara the life she deserved when you couldn’t_. His shoulders was screaming him to stop, his t-shirt was clinging to his skin because of all the sweat, yet he kept going.

“Mon-El?”

_If it wasn’t for you she would’ve been alive!_ Left punch. _It’s your fault_. Right punch. _It should’ve been you_. A scream left his mouth as his knuckles connected with the bag again, and finally its hinges broke as it flew to the opposite wall, falling down with a thump. He was breathing heavily as he stood there, just…just staring at the bag and watching it get blurry with his tears.

“MON-EL!” He jumped with the voice coming from right next to him and finally managed to slip away from his thoughts. He found Dana staring at him with lifted brows and anxious eyes. Swallowing hard he tried to get rid of the knot in his throat, yet there was nothing he could do for the rustiness of his voice or the blank expression on his face.

“Dana,” he whispered as the woman stepped in front of him.

“I’ve called your name for about three times. What—“ She stopped short when she saw Mon-El’s face, and the annoyance in her eyes dissipated almost immediately. Instead they widened with shock. “Oh my God, Mon-El, are you—“

“I’m fine,” Mon-El dismissed her question immediately, walked around her to reach for the punching bag. He could hear Dana turning around to look at him.

“Um, _no_ , you’re not.” She stepped to his side as Mon-El lifted the bag to look at the damage he’d caused. It seemed like they would need to replace the hinges. “You look like you just had a not-so-nice encounter with a Dementor.” He shot her a glare before leaving the punching bag on the floor, knowing he couldn’t put it back into place. Just like everything else that he’d broken, there was nothing he could do to fix it.

The thought made him wince as he clenched his teeth harshly, trying to keep the sobs at bay. He felt Dana’s soft touch on his arm as the woman walked in front of him, her non-judgmental gaze searching Mon-El’s face. She squeezed his arm sympathetically. “You’re not okay,” she said as more of a statement than a question. Mon-El opened his mouth to object and say that there was nothing wrong, but the words died on his tongue. Anyone that took one glance at him would be able to see he was not okay, not even close. _Horrible_ didn’t even begin to explain how he was feeling.

Clamping his mouth shut he shook his head, tears blurring his vision once again. Blinking them away didn’t work anymore.

“Oh, baby,” Dana whispered and reached up, wrapping her arms around Mon-El’s shoulders tightly. At least, as tightly as she could. Closing his eyes, Mon-El let her pull him close and hugged her back carefully, making sure he didn’t use too much force even though…even though all he wanted was to be able to hug someone as tightly as he could.

Well, it wasn’t exactly that. He wanted to hug _Kara_ as tightly as he could. He wanted her to be the one in his arms, he wanted her to pat his back, stroke his hair, and tell him that she’d always be there for him. That…that she _loved_ him, and she was _happy_ with him; _happier than she’d ever been_.

Tears continued to stream down his cheeks even as he shut his eyes. His body was shaking all over; he barely felt it as Dana stroked his back and guided his head so that he rested his chin over her shoulder. “Do you wanna talk about it?” she asked, her voice soft and undemanding. Mon-El clenched his teeth to keep himself from talking. He knew he shouldn’t say anything, not just because he promised J’onn, but also… Dana wouldn’t understand. She didn’t know Kara, she didn’t know how _special_ Kara was to him. To her he was… He was nothing more than a _playboy_ probably.

Yet the words tumbled out of his lips before he could stop them. “I ruined everything,” he whispered, his fingers curling into fists. “Dana, I… I messed up. It was all my fault.” _She’s happier without me_ , he thought, even though he couldn’t say it out loud. _She’d be better of without me, and I… I took away everything that she had. I ruined her life. I killed her. I killed her_. The words spun around in his head, every one of them making him feel sicker and sicker, twisting the knife that was lodged in his chest and hollowing him out.

“Hey,” Dana said as she pulled back, putting her hands on Mon-El’s shoulders. She ducked her chin to look at his eyes. “Don’t say that. I’m sure that’s not true.” Mon-El shook his head, snorting at the confidence in her voice.

“You don’t know what happened. What I did to…” He stopped before her name left his mouth, his breath getting hitched in his throat. He had to turn his eyes away to keep himself from breaking down.

Dana shrugged as she patted his chest. “Maybe not,” she admitted, “but I know who _you_ are. Yes, you’re lazy sometimes, and messy, and careless, and annoy the shit out of me, but you’ve also been there for me whenever I needed it. For… For all of us, actually. So don’t expect me to believe that you could’ve just… _messed up_.” Shutting his eyes, Mon-El shook his head and bowed his head.

“But I did,” he croaked, shaking off Dana’s hands and putting some distance between them. “I _ruined_ her.”

“Mon-El—“ Dana started to object, but Mon-El stopped her.

“Don’t.” His gaze turned to her and whatever was in it, it rooted Dana into place. “I just… I can’t do this right now. I’m sorry, I—“ His words got cut when someone pushed open the door of the training room. He quickly wiped his tears away before turning around, just in time to see Alex’s head popping up next to the door.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt,” she started, her eyes turning to the Daxamite immediately, “but we got a call that there’s an attack going on in the opening of Comets Art Gallery. They said that the robbers are armed.” She didn’t need to continue for Mon-El to understand what she meant. He nodded curtly.

“I’m on it,” he said, smoothing his cape as he walked to the door. Alex stepped aside to let him pass, her gaze traveling on him as if she expected him to explode any second. Before Mon-El could walk past her, she grabbed his arm.

“Mon-El,” she whispered, too quietly for Dana to hear. Concern was twinkling in her eyes. “Are you okay?” She seemed like she already knew the answer to that question, yet she still waited for him to say something.

He hoped the smile on his face didn’t look as fake as it felt. “Yeah,” he lied with a nonchalant shrug. “Why wouldn’t I be?” Alex opened her mouth, as if to disagree, but by that time Mon-El was walking away. Still, he could feel her eyes on his back, watching his every move, wondering what the hell had gone wrong in the last couple of days to make him this way.

_If only she knew_.

* * *

**_11:02_ **

Mon-El used to claim, before Kara died, that he could sense her presence in any place, no matter what kind of a situation they were in. Whether it was in a crowded street or a quiet restaurant, it felt like his body _knew_ where Kara was and immediately turned to her. Kara would argue that it was only his heightened senses, not some sort of magic, yet she’d always have a smile on her face as they argued about it, and despite that, Mon-El knew that Kara liked to think they had some sort of a connection too.

So it shouldn’t have come as much of a surprise when Mon-El’s eyes found Kara immediately, the moment he entered the art gallery, even before he noticed the attackers. That…that _couldn’t_ just be about his senses, because she’d been hiding behind a pillar, away from sight, when the attackers were _right in front of his eyes_.

He came to a sudden stop the moment his eyes found her, shock rippling through his body. What was she doing there? This was… This was an _art gallery opening_ , which, well, didn’t fit Kara’s tastes much. She’d much rather be out there chasing some news, eating, or cuddled up at home watching the new episode of her favorite TV show. Well, at least _his Kara_ would. This… This Kara could be a completely different person, no matter how he seemed to forget all that in a second.

Maybe not so different, though, because when he saw her… She was getting ready to rush forward to stop the attackers. There were four of them: Two were grabbing art pieces and loading them into what looked like two huge trunks, and the other two were… Well, they had guns that they were pointing at the handful of attendees of the opening that weren’t lucky enough to hide or escape. He could see one of the women trying to talk the attacker down, her hands raised in the air, and the attacker was yelling something about how she should step back or he would shoot.

If Mon-El knew Kara at all, even this different version of her, he knew she’d want to get in between them to stop the woman from getting shot. And that would mean that she’d have to _expose_ herself to…to everyone in the room.

Instinct took over his body as the words left his mouth. “Kara, don’t,” he whispered, his voice too low for anyone to hear except Kara. Her ears perked up and she turned to him immediately, her eyes widening with conflict. Their gazes connected for less than a second—though it felt much longer to Mon-El since he’d been using his superspeed—yet that second was enough. “I got this. You get the civilians out,” he told her and nodded briefly before running forward.

He didn’t need to see her answer to know she’d do as he said.

He got in front of the attacker with the gun and grabbed his weapon, twisting his arm in the process and sending him down to the ground. “Haven’t your parents taught you how to properly treat a woman?” he asked the attacker, an almost smile playing on lips. _Almost_. It died way too quickly as he turned to the other robber, seeing him getting ready to shoot. His hand shot forward and his fingers wrapped around the gun, crushing it under his strength. He landed a punch on the robber’s face and watched him hit the floor and slide.

“Come on. This way.” Kara’s voice rang in his ears as he saw, from the corner of his eyes, her leading a group of people out of the building. Her hands were outstretched protectively around them. A corner of his lips tipped up briefly. He could always trust her to put innocents before herself.

The other two robbers went down as well before they even found the time to take out their guns, and Mon-El quickly tied all of their hands together, threw their guns far away, and told Alex through his comms to call the police.

“They’re on their way,” the agent told him, her voice chirpy as she continued. “That was a good one, Valor.” The name almost made him wince. He could barely nod before deactivating his comms.

“Yeah,” he said as he turned around, spotting an EXIT sign at the back of the room. He was sure the front of the building would be crowded with the police and the civilians, and maybe even reporters. They’d ask questions, they’d want an interview, and maybe even a picture, and he…

He couldn’t deal with that. Not right now. There was a time he’d love to do that, when Kara was right by his side for it, but without her… There’d be a huge hole at his side that would be too painful to ignore—that _had been_ too painful to ignore. How could he just… How could he just go out there and pretend that…that nothing was wrong? That Kara’s absence didn’t hurt him more and more every single day? And there was also… There was also the issue that _she_ would probably be outside, at the entrance, and after their encounter on the rooftop…after his talk with his mother… He couldn’t face her. He couldn’t see her again and risk all those memories coming back, ripping out his heart all over again.

So the back exit it would be.

He pushed open the door just as the police sirens started blaring in his ears. The exit opened to a narrow street with nothing but a few cats and a garbage trunk in sight. He took a relieved breath, getting ready to jump into the air and leave before—

“Wait!” The voice coming from his left rooted him in place. He could hear the sound of high heels approaching, the heavy breathing and a short curse about how she shouldn’t have worn heels, and he knew who it was before he even turned. There was no way he wouldn’t recognize that voice. “Mon-El, wait, please.” He could feel her eyes on him as she stopped a couple of feet away.

He slowly turned, just in time to see Kara adjust her glasses and push her hair away from her face. Her eyes looked almost…sad and apologetic as she looked up at him.

It took him some time to find his voice, thanks to his pounding heart and the knot that formed in his throat. A part of him told him to fly away. To leave and…and never look back. It was the best thing he could do for both himself and Kara. Yet despite all that…all that common sense he couldn’t move his muscles. This was _Kara_ , this was the woman that he _loved_ with everything that he had, and whose loss broke him in an irreversible way. He couldn’t just _leave_ her, even in a situation as messed up as this.

“Kara,” he whispered, his voice rusty. He cleared his throat. “What are you… What are you doing here?” He hoped she couldn’t hear the shakiness in his voice, or see the brokenness in his eyes.

Kara took a deep breath, watching him intently. Her gaze never left him as she answered. “I’m sorry,” she said, tucking her hair behind her ear. “For what I said to you yesterday. I… I don’t know you at all, and it was a mistake of me to misjudge you just because you’re from Daxam.” She bit her lip as she clasped her hands in front of her.

Her words knocked the breath out of him, literally. His mind flashed back to six years ago, Kara appearing in front of his eyes with her Supergirl suit and…and with the same apologetic look on her face that this Kara had now. She’d uttered those exact same words at him. _I don’t know you at all, and it was a mistake of me to misjudge you just because you’re from Daxam_. And then she’d extended her hand to him, and told him that—

“And I’m sorry,” Kara continued when he didn’t say anything, taking him out of his thoughts, “that I said you weren’t a hero, because I… I was wrong. I was just angry and I… I was out of place. I shouldn’t have said that.” She pressed her lips together and held her breath, as if waiting for Mon-El to speak. There was no lie in her eyes, no…no trick; she was being completely honest. He felt his heart swell in his chest without his intention, filling up some spaces in him that he thought would be empty forever. He quickly stopped the spread of it. _It’ll only hurt more later_.

“Kara, I…” He had to force the words out because of the knot in his throat. He shook his head. “It’s okay. I understand.”

“But it’s not okay,” Kara disagreed as she stepped forward. “Mon-El, you just… You saved those people in there, and you… You stopped me from revealing myself. If it wasn’t for you…” She shuddered with the thought and wrapped her arms around herself.

“I just did what anyone would do.” _What you would do, what you taught me to do_. “It wasn’t anything special.” And wasn’t that the truth. Punching someone in the face, knocking them down, stepping in front of a bullet… Those were easy things when you knew you couldn’t get hurt. But going out to give an interview, talking to people, inspiring hope… Those were what made someone a hero, and he’d just turned his back to all of that.

“No, you did what a hero would do.” Kara’s eyes traveled on his face. “Thank you for that.” All Mon-El could do was nod for an answer, turning his eyes away. He didn’t deserve her gratitude. In fact, she…she wouldn’t be grateful to him if she knew… If she knew what he took away from her. If she knew that in another life, he took everything that she had from her.

_You let her die. If she never knew you, if you stayed the hell away from her she’d have been alive._ He desperately tried to ignore the words ringing in his ears as he clenched his fists.

“You shouldn’t thank me,” he confessed, his voice barely a whisper. He knew she would be able to hear it still. “I don’t de— I was just doing my duty.” _And I might’ve saved you here, but in the real timeline, I failed you in the worst way possible_.

He turned to leave before tears overwhelmed him, as least until Kara stopped him again. “Wait, don’t go yet.” She stopped for a second. “ _Please_.” His steps halted with the slight desperation in her voice, as if the thought of him leaving hurt her. He shut his eyes tightly, taking a deep breath, yet he didn’t— _couldn’t_ —face her. “I mean… I mean, we can see each other again, right? After today? I mean, as a…as a reporter, I’m gonna need to write about what happened in there, and getting an exclusive from Valor himself would be pretty amazing.” Somehow, Mon-El knew she was using the last part as just an excuse for them to meet up again, just as…just as she did all the time when she was trying to hide her vulnerability behind excuses. His heart was slamming against his ribs as he slowly turned around. “It could make the front page.”

Her eyes were filled with _so much hope_ as she stared at him with a small smile. He’d been prepared to say no, to say that…that it would be better for them if they stayed away from each other, yet seeing that look he just couldn’t. The word didn’t leave his lips even as he opened his mouth, no matter how much he forced himself. He couldn’t say no to her.

_You’re not even strong enough to stay away from her, let alone letting her go permanently_. His mother’s words seeped into his mind. _You’ve never been strong enough to do the right thing_. Disgust twisted his stomach as he clamped his mouth shut. He should say no, but he couldn’t. Even knowing he had been, and would be, her destruction, he couldn’t.

“Yeah, sure,” he answered, trying to hide his grimace and ignore the sickness inside him. He _hated_ himself for doing it, yet he still continued. “How about tomorrow afternoon?” Kara’s shoulders slumped with relief as her smile widened. She nodded.

“Tomorrow afternoon sounds great.” She adjusted her glasses and cleared her throat. “I’ll see you then, I guess.”

“Looking forward to it.” His voice was hoarse because of the emotional turmoil going on inside him. He looked over Kara one last time, her blue shirt and white skirt, her hair that cascaded over her shoulders, her pinkish cheeks and…and her bright eyes, twinkling with life and…and light. She looked like the definition of perfection.

He looked away before he got lost in her and did something he shouldn’t do. “Bye, Kara,” he muttered under his breath before he pushed himself off the ground He could feel her watching him even after he was far away from her eyesight, her gaze following him, turning from hopeful to judgmental to icy almost.

_You’ve always been so weak_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, just wanted to say this, i wrote this chapter i think before the episode 2x20 aired, and i was like, "did i go too far with Rhea's manipulativeness and villainy? did she end up being too evil?" because i'd thought, at least a PART of her, truly cared about Mon-El. but theeeeeen 2x20-21-22 happened, and i was like "nope, i'd gotten that right. i might've even gone easier." lol. so yeah, apparently she was THAT evil :)
> 
> anyway, hope you enjoyed this!


	11. Hollowness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just gonna say this before y'all read this chapter... You might need tissues. Like a couple of them. Just wanted to warn you.
> 
> Enjoy?

**27 th of March, 2022**

**_12:18_ **

Mon-El fidgeted with his bowtie for probably the hundredth time in the short five minutes he’d been waiting in front of the CatCo building. Looking at the side mirror of his car he tried to fix it, even though… Well, nothing was wrong with it, but he couldn’t seem to _not_ move his hands. He had to do something with them. Yet it looked like the more he played with the bowtie, the worst it got; there was a good chance that eventually he wouldn’t be able to control his strength and rip the bowtie off of his neck.

He managed to tear his hands from the bowtie and smoothed them over his red and white plaid shirt. With a deep breath he turned his eyes to the entrance across the street, checking his phone for time. 12:19. Which meant Kara should be out shortly. In about 11 minutes. His breath got hitched in his throat with the thought, and not for the first time he wondered…

He wondered whether it was a good idea to go out with Kara. Not _go out_ go out of course, not like on a date, but still… Still he’d be with her. He’d talk with her, and he’d listen to her, they’d walk together and eat together, and she’d be…she’d be doing all those little things she always did, and he’d be watching her and noting every single detail about her like he used to do, and after a year of utter pain and desperation and hollowness, after all those empty days and lonely nights, he’d _finally_ be able to be with her again, he’d finally feel _something_ other than this gut-wrenching, deadly guilt, hate, shame and pain that threatened to swallow him up and destroy him every single day. And he _needed_ to feel something else so, so badly right now because he didn’t know… He didn’t know how much longer he would be able to survive in his current situation. He was sinking deeper and deeper into depression with each passing day, and…and he knew that at some point it’d be too late. He’d suffocate under the weight of all those emotions; they’d snuff him out completely until there was nothing left of him other than an empty, emotionless husk. He couldn’t go on as he’d been doing if he didn’t want to end up like that. He just… _couldn’t_. He needed Kara, he needed her so _badly_ at this point that he was worried what he’d become without her.

_And you’ll have to leave her again soon._

The thought felt so much like a punch in the stomach that he felt breathless for a moment. He clenched his fists in the pockets of his jackets and tried to push out the pain that had rushed inside his chest by digging his nails into his palms harshly. _It wasn’t as if you didn’t know that_ , he reminded himself. _You still came here willingly_. Yet that didn’t change the fact that he was struggling to breathe or feeling dizzy as he tried to focus on the street…cars… _anything_ other than the growing hole inside his chest.

_You know what going back and changing the timeline means_. His mother’s words echoed in his mind, no matter how much he tried to push them away _. It means Kara will be gone again, forever. And you’re not even strong enough to stay away from her, let alone letting her go permanently_. And oh how right she was. He wasn’t strong at all, let alone…let alone being _strong enough_ to let the love of his life go, _again_ , knowing _exactly_ how it felt. Being here right now just proved that. There were a million reasons why he shouldn’t see Kara, and no reason to see her at all, yet here he was, waiting for her to come out so that she could get an interview from him that wouldn’t mean anything once the timeline was changed. And it _would_ change, he _would_ need to change it. It was the right thing to do, it was what a _hero_ would do. What…What _Supergirl_ would do. Kara always believed, wholeheartedly, that he’d be able to make the hard choices if it ever came to that, which was one reason she agreed to take him as her partner and trusted him in missions. She trusted him with all that she had; how could he just…just _prove her wrong_ because he was selfish? Because he didn’t want to lose her? She’d hate him for that if she could see him, and Mon-El wanted to make her proud so _badly_. He’d failed her repeatedly when she was alive _and_ when she died, was he going to fail her yet again?

_You’ve never been strong enough to do the right thing_.

“ _No_ ,” Mon-El gasped quietly, his eyes flying open. “No, I am. I can… I can do it.” He didn’t know whether he was trying to convince himself or…or the voice of his mother.

“You can do what?” Kara’s voice distracted him from his thoughts. He almost jumped when he heard her and looked up, finding the Kryptonian standing right in front of him. She was wearing a white pencil skirt and a blue blouse that highlighted the color of her eyes, so much so that they took Mon-El’s breath away for a moment. Her hair was pulled back from the top into a braid, and the free strands were swung over her right shoulder, falling down in soft curls. The colors looked so beautiful, so bright under the sunlight, almost as if her hair was made up of liquid gold. He couldn’t look away, he couldn’t tear his eyes from her.

Kara arched her brow as she let her white bag dangle from her arm. “Mon-El? Are you okay?” she asked, concern evident in her voice. Mon-El forced himself to focus on her and swallowed hard to get rid of the knot in his throat, even though it didn’t help him one bit.

“Ye-yeah, of course. I was just… I was just thinking about something.” He adjusted his glasses and pushed himself off of the car. “Hey.” Kara smiled at him with one of her bright smiles at that small word.

“Hey,” she said, mirroring him and adjusting her glasses herself. “I was… I was actually surprised to find you here, I didn’t expect you to…you know, _come_.” Mon-El frowned at that with confusion. There wasn’t a version of time, in any universe, that he would pass the opportunity to see Kara, even if it was… Even if it was brief and would eventually come to an end. “I thought you’d be, you know, up there, doing _Valor_ stuff.” She shook her head quickly the moment she said that, a blush creeping up her cheeks. Mon-El couldn’t help it as one corner of his lips tipped up. “I mean, not that it matters now that you’re here, but…”

“Yeah, I’m here,” he said with a nod, his heart thrumming in his chest. _I will always be here for you_. “I did promise you an interview, right?” Kara pressed her lips together at that and nodded, her eyes shining with joy.

“You did. So, about that interview, um… I was thinking, there’s a really nice café just a block away from here. It’s usually quiet and empty, so we could maybe go there?” She turned her gaze to Mon-El after pointing at the general direction of the street in a way that was impossible to tell where the café actually was. Well, at least it was impossible for _him_ since for the whole time she was talking he kept his eyes on her face, watching her lips move, watching her fingers quickly and absentmindedly push her glasses up her nose, watching excitement fill her features before their gazes met. He had to force himself to focus on the conversation and open his mouth.

“Actually, do you have some time? More than an hour or so?” He scratched his cheek nervously as he kept his eyes away from her so that he wouldn’t get distracted… _again_. Kara just frowned at him.

“Um, yeah. Technically, since I’m making an interview, I’m here on business and not for a break. What did you have in mind?” He took his hands out of his pockets as he answered, trying to prevent his voice from shaking with his strained nerves. He patted on his car lightly.

“Well, there’s a really good Chinese restaurant about twenty minutes away from here by car, so I thought we could go there. They make… Their potstickers are amazing.” _You used to like that place a lot_. He looked at Kara expectantly, waiting for her reaction. Her eyes widened when she heard potstickers and she eyed Mon-El suspiciously.

“Potstickers? Did you just say potstickers?” Mon-El nodded slowly. She didn’t say anything for a couple of seconds more, watching him, before she answered. “Oh my God, I love potstickers. How did you know I liked potstickers?” He smiled at her enthusiasm as he shrugged.

“Just a hunch, I guess.” He stepped back to open the passenger door for her. “Hop in.” Kara flashed him a smile as she sat in the car and fumbled with the seatbelt as he walked around to the driver seat. No matter how much he willed them to stop, his hands were shaking. He quickly took his place without wasting much time, glancing at Kara. Her eyes were on him, watching his every move, and when their eyes met she flashed him a smile.

“So,” she started, clasping her hands in front of her nervously. “How was your day?” She stopped for a second and furrowed his brows. “Am I allowed to ask that, or…or are your missions like, super secret or something?” A short laugh burst out of Mon-El’s lips at her question and shook his head.

“No, they’re not. Well, sort of.” Taking a deep breath he tightened his grip on the steering wheel and fixated his eyes on the street. “There wasn’t much crime today anyway, only an accidental house fire.” Kara’s ears perked up at that as she leaned forward.

“Oh, yeah, I heard about that. Deryck had gotten an interview with the family.” A smile appeared on her lips. “They said you saved a 7-month-old baby from its crib before the whole place went kaboom.” Mon-El lifted his brows at her choice of words.

“Is that what they said? That the place ‘went kaboom’?” he asked, which earned a scowl from Kara.

“Maybe not in those exact words, but still…” she tried to defend herself before she turned to Mon-El. There was a softness in her voice as she continued. “Did you really save that baby?” Mon-El could only nod as an answer as he clenched his teeth. He could still remember the…the baby in his arms, crying, kicking and punching the air in an attempt to escape the smoke. He’d gone for her immediately the moment he heard the mother screaming for someone to save her. He’d scooped her up and pressed her face to his chest carefully, in order to not smother her, and took her out of the building, and then he checked her up to make sure she was fine.

She had the bluest eyes he’d seen for a while.

They’d taken his breath immediately, so much so that he was stuck suspended in the air for a couple of moments. The girl looked so beautiful, so vulnerable and fragile that he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. She’d been crying at first, trying to grasp at something with his tiny hands, but when she caught Mon-El’s cape that had fallen on his shoulder she’d stopped. She’d looked up at him, her lips puckered into an almost smile, her eyes wide and curious, and at that moment…

At that moment Mon-El couldn’t help being reminded of Kara. The baby… She could easily be her baby version or…or her child. He and Kara could’ve had a child like that had she…had she survived.

The thought had hit him harder than he thought, and as he put the baby in her mother’s arms his hands were shaking. He’d wanted that with Kara. He never specifically thought about having a child—he wasn’t even sure if that was possible for them here on Earth—but that didn’t mean he hadn’t thought about their future. Their wedding and…and the life they would have afterwards. Doing all the things married couples did, and also the ones that were special for them. Having a child was a part of that, and he would’ve… He would’ve wanted that, when the right time came. He wanted that badly.

“Yeah,” Mon-El answered Kara’s question as he tried to pry his fingers off of the steering wheel before it got crushed under his hands. “She was stuck in her room and the parents couldn’t enter there before the firefighters pulled them out. I took her away before it was too late.” Kara nodded thoughtfully at that, her eyes focused on a spot in the car.

“Do you know how the fire started? Or where?” Her voice was all business as she stared into Mon-El’s eyes. He couldn’t help the smile forming on his lips at that, remembering how Kara could get when she got excited about a story. He glanced at her from the corner of his eyes.

“Am I getting interviewed now?” he teased her, his eyes lingering on her face for a second. He waited for her to glare at him, just like she always did whenever he joked about something to annoy her. She’d roll her eyes and shake her head, knowing that was his intention, while she also tried to hide the smile forming on her face so that he wouldn’t know she was…she was _enjoying_ it.

Kara only smiled as an answer, pushing her hair back. “A reporter’s job is never done,” she quipped, adjusting her glasses. Disappointment washed over Mon-El briefly at that reaction, even though… Even though a big part of him knew Kara’s reactions couldn’t be the same as…as he’d known her. He could only nod as he tried to pull his thoughts together and answer her question.

“It seemed like it started in the kitchen,” he explained, watching her quickly jot that down on a notepad. “But I can’t be sure. It sustained the most damage in the explosion.” The corner of Kara’s lips tipped up.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if someone left a stove on or something,” she joked, putting away her notes. “I do that all the time, and I’m sure my loft got close to burning a couple of times too.” A scoff left Mon-El’s lips.

“Yeah, I know,” he muttered without thinking about it, remembering all those times Kara burned a dish and almost activated the fire alarms because of the smoke. For someone who liked eating so much, she really was not that good at cooking.

Kara shot him an awkward glance with that, lifting her brows questioningly. It took Mon-El a couple of seconds to notice his mistake. He’d talked about Kara’s cooking as if he knew it. Well, he _knew_ it, yes, but in another timeline. Here… Here he wasn’t supposed to know Kara. He straightened up immediately and tried to chuckle. “I mean, I know how that feels like. I’ve messed up more times than I can count when I was trying to teach myself how to cook here.” Understanding filled Kara’s eyes as she nodded, and then a thought hit her mind.

“How long have you been here?” she asked, her eyes traveling on him. “I mean, Krypton and Daxam were… You know, _gone_ for about forty years now. And you don’t look older than thirty.” Mon-El steered the car to the left, deliberately keeping his eyes on the road as he answered.

“About six years now. The pod that I escaped Daxam with… It got stuck in a place called Well of Stars for decades, apparently. At least that was what yo— I mean, that was what my friends told me after they found me.” He took a deep breath to get his thoughts together. “I’ve been here ever since.” Kara’s eyes widened at that as she almost jumped in her seat.

“So it was you!” she said, leaning forward to look at his face. Mon-El chuckled bewilderedly.

“What?”

“You were the one that was in the pod that…that crash-landed here six years ago,” she started rambling excitedly, her words coming rapidly. “I’d seen it... _you_ …fall, and I wanted to check it out, but my sister said it wouldn’t be a smart idea. We didn’t know who you were and whether you were dangerous or not, and she said we couldn’t risk it. So I’d stayed away.” She lifted her eyes to look at him. “I _knew_ I should’ve gone there.”

_If you’d gone there you’d be dead now._

Mon-El’s foot slammed on the brakes and the car came to a sudden halt. Even though the street wasn’t that crowded since they’d left the main street a couple of minutes ago, the car behind him still struggled to stop before crashing into them. He was sure there weren’t even _inches_ between them. Two honks echoed in the street, yet he could barely hear it over the sound of his own beating heart.

He couldn’t feel _anything_ other than his heart slamming into his ribs, threatening to fall apart into pieces.

He was caught too off guard. He didn’t… He didn’t expect Kara to bring up the topic of that pod, he didn’t think…he didn’t think Kara had even seen it in this timeline. Yet she did, and she almost— _almost_ —went to it. She was _almost_ the one finding him. And if she’d done that… She would’ve started the chain of events that would eventually end in her death. He’d have caused her death once again even though the timeline was completely different. Maybe… Maybe the reason she was alive in this timeline wasn’t because she’d never become Supergirl. Maybe it was because she’d…she’d never met _him_.

Air left his lungs as he felt the steering wheel bend under his fingers, so much so that with a little bit more force it might’ve snapped. It was his doing, all of it. It wasn’t Kara being Supergirl, it wasn’t her always risking her life to help others that put her in the path that led to her death, it was him. It was _Kara_ meeting… _him_.

Tears welled up in his eyes as he felt someone’s hand on his shoulder, grasping it as if her life depended on it. _Kara_. “Mon-El!” he heard her say, yet her voice sounded as if she was talking from underwater. Or _he_ was underwater—he was _drowning_ —and he couldn’t hear her properly.

It was _his_ fault, it was _his_ doing. He’d steered her life into the path that…that she ended up dying in. He’d caused all of that to happen.

He felt Kara’s hand move from his shoulder to the nape of his neck, her other hand cupping his cheek. “Hey, Mon-El, look at me,” she continued, forcing him to turn his eyes to her side. He could barely make out her features because of the tears blurring his vision. “Look at me!” she yelled, pleaded, desperately, her fingers brushing his hair slightly. Yet it was impossible, it was impossible to focus on her voice and escape his thoughts, it was impossible—

“Listen to my voice.” She sounded determined as she squeezed his shoulder, trying to offer him some comfort. “Just focus on it. Focus on my words, okay? You’re gonna get through it.” Her thumb swept over his collarbone. “Just focus on me. You can do it.”

Mon-El found himself blinking, his tears dissipating slowly, as Kara’s eyes finally came into focus. She was looking at him with worry clouding her features, her fingers stroking his cheek and shoulders continuously. And slowly, very slowly, her touch pushed away the painful thoughts that were circling his mind. He focused on the feeling of her hand on his shoulder, her fingers tracing the lines of his neck, her eyes traveling on his face. It was wrong for him to get comfort from her touch when…when he should be staying as far away from her as possible, yet it was impossible to think that when she was…when she was right there, in front of him, and she was offering him her support. It was hard to think anything other than her and…and how much he needed her.

He let her touch take the tension away from his shoulders. Kara searched his eyes for a second before she spoke. “Are you okay?” Her voice was soft and undemanding, as if she didn’t need him to explain anything but wanted to know if he was fine. Mon-El gulped and nodded slowly, even though his answer was far from the truth.

“Ye-yeah,” he said, turning to the street once more. Kara hesitated for one second before she pulled her hands away, and suddenly he felt empty and cold. It took every ounce of his willpower not to hold onto them. “I’m… I’m sorry about that. I was just…” His voice trailed off as he couldn’t find the right words to explain what happened. Kara shook her head immediately.

“You don’t have to explain, I understand.” And from the way she was looking at him, he knew she was telling the truth. She flashed him a smile and gestured at the road as Mon-El pried his fingers away from the steering wheel, realizing there were two hand shaped dents there. “Now how about we get going, because I’m really hungry right now, and those potstickers aren’t gonna bring themselves to me.” Mon-El forced himself to smile for her sake as he nodded and started driving, grasping the steering wheel once again as tightly as possible without causing another dent. Yet, still, there was no way he could stop the shakiness in his arms.

* * *

**_12:40_ **

Mon-El held open the restaurant’s door for Kara, letting her enter before following her. “Thank you,” she said, offering him a shy smile, and turned her eyes to the room in front of her. The restaurant wasn’t that big; it was only about ten or fifteen wooden tables spaced evenly from each other, each of them having two candles adorning them. The whole place had a rustic air to it with white, cottage-like walls, a huge fireplace on the far right corner, pillows thrown around it, and old-fashioned lights lining the walls.

Kara took all of that in as she scanned the room. “Wow,” she commented, turning to Mon-El, who’d been watching her reactions with his hands tucked into his pockets. “I never thought you to be a cozy or rustic restaurant person. You seemed like the…” She made gestures with her hands in the air in the cute way she always did, especially when she was trying to explain something and didn’t know how to do it. “The club type.” Mon-El lifted his brows.

“The club type?” One corner of his lips tipped up at her description. Kara rolled her eyes.

“You know, the type that gets drunk every night and sleeps with a new girl.” Her eyes didn’t fail to catch Mon-El’s grimace at that. The Daxamite wondered briefly what kind of a profile he must be painting in the media that made Kara come up with that conclusion, but he quickly pushed those thoughts away. Whoever that Mon-El was in this timeline, it wasn’t _him_. It was a different version that…that hadn’t had Kara’s influence, hadn’t had anyone to try and change for, and ended up being the same kind of person he was on Daxam. That was probably the least surprising part of this world: Without Kara he was still a partier, the…the “frat boy of the universe” as she described him all those years ago.

He _hated_ that person.

“Not that I’d really know of course,” Kara rushed out when discomfort filled the air between them, and shook her head. “I just assumed that since you were…” Her voice trailed off before the word left his mouth, but Mon-El knew what she had in mind.

“A Daxamite?” he supplied, trying to ease off the tension in his shoulders. He hoped he didn’t sound as defeated as he felt.

“No.” Kara shook her head fervently as she leaned on the counter in front of them, waiting for a waiter to come. Mon-El arched his brow at that. Kara wasn’t a good liar in this timeline either—he doubted she’d be a good liar in any timeline—and even if it wasn’t that he knew Kara too well to not know her thoughts. She sighed finally when she saw his eyes. “Okay, yes, but…but I shouldn’t have done that. Obviously, I was wrong.” She briefly put her hand on his wrist and squeezed it before pulling it back.

Mon-El didn’t know how long he stared at his elbow, but it must be until a waiter interrupted them. She’d done it with such ease, such…such normalcy, like she always used to do in the real world, that it’d sent tingles of shock through his body. His Kara would always find a way to touch him even when they were in public. She’d bump her shoulder to his, she’d let her fingers brush his arm, she’d put her hand on his knee when they were sitting side by side, and she’d reach forward to hold his hand whenever she had the opportunity. Her finger would trace the veins on his arm softly to reassure him, to tell him that she was by his side, to remind him that she wasn’t leaving him. She’d _never_ leave him.

He curled his hand into a fist and dug his nails into his palm, trying to dull the pain that hit him in the chest. He gladly accepted the distraction when the waiter appeared by their side.

“Good afternoon, and welcome to Golden Dragon,” the man said with a huge smile on his face. “I’m Hadyn, and I’m gonna be your waiter for today.”

“Hi,” Kara mumbled with a small smile as she followed Hadyn into the restaurant. Mon-El was right next to her, his hands clasped together in front of him to keep them away from Kara.

The waiter’s eyes skimmed around the restaurant before leading them around a couple tables to a seat next to the fireplace. “Would this table be okay, or would a young couple like you want a more private place? We have seats upstairs as well—“ Kara scoffed before Hadyn could speak more, looking at Mon-El with a laugh.

“Us?” she asked, pointing at them, and then quickly corrected herself. “I mean, Mo—Mike and me? Oh, no. We’re not—We’re not a couple. There’s no us.” She shook her head, urging the Daxamite to back her up with a gaze. Mon-El snapped out of his sputter and nodded in agreement, even though it brought a sick taste into his mouth. _You used to be proud to introduce me as your boyfriend._

“Yeah, we’re just… We’re just friends.” He tried to change the subject immediately. “This table is fine.”

Tension was almost visible in the air as they sat down. “I’m sorry about that,” Hadyn apologized professionally as he put two menus in front of them. “Would you like something to drink beforehand?” Mon-El’s answer came out maybe too fast.

“Club soda, please,” he ordered, not even bothering to look at the drink menu. Kara’s eyes snapped at him with that, her brows lifted in surprise. It took him a less than a second to realize his mistake: Of course. Club soda was Kara’s favorite drink as well. It’d been such a commonplace for him to drink it with her, or after her death when he swore he’d never drink alcohol again, that he didn’t think _this_ Kara wouldn’t know that. He tried to put on a blank face as he looked at her, trying to act nonchalant. “What?” She blinked and shook her head.

“Nothing. Club soda for me too, thanks.” Hadyn flashed them a smile.

“Coming up right away,” he said before he walked away and disappeared behind a door.

Kara sighed behind him, shaking her head. “Why do people always assume a woman and a man must be a couple if they go out together? Can’t they simply be just _friends_?” Mon-El shrugged nervously.

“Most people have a misconception that a guy and a girl can’t be just friends.” _Or he saw the way I looked at you and assumed we were together_. Slipping away from his thoughts quickly, he flashed Kara a smile that he hoped didn’t look so fake. “But is that what you came to interview me about?” He didn’t want to think about the couple business anymore.

Kara’s eyes widened with excitement at that as she nodded. “Yeah, right. We should get started with that.” She dug into her bag and took out a recorder. “Would you mind if I, um, record this?” Mon-El smiled at her eagerness as he shook his head.

“Not at all.” Kara mirrored his smile before taking out a notepad and flipping through it until she found the page she wanted. All the tautness and anxiety in her shoulders had melted, just like it always did when she was in her comfort zone, as she looked up. She was used to all of this: interviewing people, digging up the truth, and reporting it. Mon-El had always felt proud and impressed how good she was at all of that and how she did it with such ease, but…but of course she did. This was who Kara was, as she’d told him all those years ago. _When I write, I don’t need a yellow sun. It’s just me. Supergirl is what I can do, Kara is who I am._ She’d always loved her job and worked hard for it.

“So, _Valor,_ ” she began with a whisper, the corners of her lips tipping up slowly, “let’s begin.” She squared her shoulders. “You were there yesterday at the Comets Art Gallery opening when it was attacked?” Mon-El found the tension in his shoulder dissipating as he answered, his fingers tapping on the table.

“Not at first. I came after I heard about the attack.”

“Right,” Kara confirmed with a nod. “How did you hear about the attack?” Mon-El opened his mouth to say that DEO listened to the police radio and scanned the city 24/7, but he stopped himself. J’onn would kill him if he exposed DEO to the news, after Alex ripped his head off for telling her sister about it. Instead he shrugged.

“I have my resources.” The Kryptonian looked up from her notes at that with a frown, clasping her hands together on the table. They had to stop for a second as Hadyn dropped their club sodas on the table and took their orders, but then Kara leaned forward.

“That’s not really an answer.”

“That’s the answer you’re getting.” He tried to flash her a small smile, even though he wished with all of his heart that he could explain everything to her. It hurt that he had to keep secrets from Kara when…when he used to tell her _everything_. They never had to hide anything from each other. “I’m sorry,” he apologized when she narrowed her eyes at him.

“Well, I guess you can’t make everything public, can you?” she muttered under her breath, crossing out something from her notes. Mon-El leaned forward when he saw a crinkle forming between her brows, not being able to stop the words coming out of his mouth.

“Off the record,” he said, catching Kara’s eyes, “I did tell you my name.” Kara’s lips tipped up.

“Off the record, you did,” she whispered, as if giving him a big secret, before straightening up. Her smile reached her eyes once again. ”But back to the art gallery. How many robbers were there when you arrived?”

“Four of them, and they all were wearing black ski-masks. Two of them were loading the paintings to black trunks, and the other two were pointing guns at the attendees to keep them from interfering.” He saw Kara visibly wince at that, probably remembering what she was about to do there. He continued quickly. “I stopped them before they could hurt anyone else.”

“That you did,” Kara said, tapping her pen on the notepad twice, before looking up. _Thank you_ , she mouthed, and Mon-El nodded slightly as an answer. “Do you know what happened to the attackers?”

“The police captured them when they came to the gallery,” he said and frowned, trying to remember what Alex told him about them. “They’re in custody now, and they’ll be going to trial. But that’s all I know.” He wished he paid more attention to Alex’s explanations, but he had… He had other stuff in his mind. But Kara still smiled as she took a couple of notes.

“That’s more than enough,” she told him and turned off the recorder. “People are gonna love this. And Eve will be so jealous of me when she finds out that I had an interview with you.” Mon-El blinked several times at that, though he shouldn’t have been surprised that Eve was working at CatCo. Kara continued when she saw his confusion. “She’s my assistant, and she may have a little crush on Valor.”

Mon-El almost spurted out the club soda he was drinking, though he didn’t know which part he was more surprised about: That Kara had an assistant, or that it was Eve, or that _Eve_ liked _him_.

“You have an assistant?” he couldn’t help asking. “And Eve has a crush on me?” Somehow, he couldn’t link the two in his mind.

Kara looked taken aback by his surprise. “Mon-El, I’m pretty sure half of the women _and_ many men in National City have a crush on you.” She stopped to adjust her glasses. “And every editor-in-chief has an assistant.” Mon-El searched Kara’s eyes, honest as always, as he leaned back. So Snapper wasn’t working at CatCo anymore in this timeline, and…and Kara hadn’t refused the job when they offered her to be the editor-in-chief. _It would be too much work,_ she’d told him about a year before she died for why she’d refused it. _I don’t want my job to interfere with me being Supergirl, especially if there are people in need._ But… But Kara here wouldn’t have that problem of course, and she deserved that job a thousand times.

“Right, yeah, of course,” he said with a nod, and then lifted his eyes. “Do people really have a crush on me?” Kara snorted at that.

“Please don’t tell me you didn’t know it. Women throw themselves at you in your interviews.” Her gaze met with Mon-El’s blank one, and the confident look on her face melted slowly. “You really didn’t know?” _To be honest I’ve never really thought about it._ He never really had to, since he wasn’t looking for anyone. He already had Kara.

“I was…” he started and cleared his throat, trying to decide how much of the situation he should tell Kara. “I was in a serious relationship until a year ago, and it ended badly.” _I lost you forever._ “And I… I guess I’m still not really over it.” _I don’t think I’ll ever be able to move on, no matter how much time passes._ “So I wasn’t really looking for anyone to be with. I haven’t paid attention.” _I don’t want to be with anyone but you._

Pain flickered in Kara’s eyes as she reached forward and put her hand over his. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I had no idea.” He lifted his eyes slowly and they met with Kara’s blue, comet-like ones. She took off her glasses and put them aside, as if she wanted Mon-El to see everything that she wanted to say but didn’t have the words for. For a moment he got lost in them, their deepness, their light, and everything they made him feel, but he quickly shook his head and cleared his throat.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, even though it wasn’t even close to that. “I just wish that…that she’d never met me.” He looked up and searched her eyes, his heart twisting in pain. “She could’ve had a better life.” His voice was barely a whisper as he said the last words, yet the pain in it was almost too audible. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep his tears at bay. _You have a better life without me._

Kara shook her head. “Mon-El, I might not know you well, but you seem like a great guy. I’m sure she was happy with you.”

“Yeah, she was,” he admitted and ducked his chin. “But she could’ve been happier without me, if she was…given that chance.” He knew Kara would probably agree with him if she knew… If she knew that it was her he was talking about. “But I guess it doesn’t matter anymore, right? It’s… It’s too late anyway.” He was afraid to look up at Kara, to see his reaction, yet he still couldn’t help wondering if she could hear the shattering of his heart in his chest.

“I’m sorry,” she said again before her words were cut by Hadyn, who brought their potstickers. From then on the conversation steered off to less emotional topics, and they spent the rest of their time talking about nothing and everything. Mon-El let Kara do most of the talking while he listened. It’d been so long that he heard her voice in real life, other than in her videos or voice recordings that he listened enough times to memorize, that he didn’t even mind. His shoulders relaxed minute-by-minute as his tension dissipated, and for the first time in the last year he found himself smiling without needing to force or fake it.

He only realized its meaning when he dropped Kara off at CatCo. It was around 2 p.m. when he stopped the car in front of the building and looked at her.

“Here we are,” he announced. Kara’s eyes flickered outside for a second before they turned to him. There was a soft smile plastered on her face that hadn’t disappeared during the whole drive.

“Yeah,” she whispered as she unclasped her seatbelt, playing with the end of it. “I’ve had… I’ve had a really nice time today.” Mon-El’s smile was genuine.

“Me too.” He unlocked the car doors so that Kara could get out. Kara’s hand wrapped around the handle and for a second she seemed like she was going to leave, but then she stopped and turned to him.

“Thank you for doing this. Not just the interview—which was incredible, by the way—but…but the restaurant and potstickers and talking… It’s been a long time since I laughed this much.” Mon-El felt a happiness bubble fill his chest when he saw the honesty and light in Kara’s eyes. “Maybe we can… We can do it again some time? As friends, of course.” He found himself nodding before he could even think about the answer, or what it meant.

“I’d like that.” Kara’s smile widened—as if that was even possible—at that, and she reached for her bag to take out a business card.

“I’m gonna just…” she said as she reached forward and tucked it in Mon-El’s shirt pocket, “put it there. Like that. It has my phone number on it and all.” Mon-El’s heart stuttered when her fingers lightly brushed his chest. When he managed to tear his eyes off of his chest and look at Kara, he saw the conflict in her eyes. She adjusted her glasses and cleared her throat.

“Can I just…” She stopped, as if struggling to find the right words, before she gathered up her courage and squared her shoulders. “Can I hug you? I mean, if it’s not weird.” She tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “I just… Because of my super strength and all I never really get to hold people’s hands or hug them as…as tightly as I can, or as I want to, and it’s just… It felt really good the last time you…hugged me.” She glanced at him through her lashes. “You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to, but I just thought…” She ducked her chin, a blush creeping up her cheeks, and chuckled nervously. All Mon-El could do was stare at her for a couple of seconds, his heart feeling like it would beat right out of his chest. He wanted to say yes. Gosh, he wanted to say yes so badly. It’d been too long since he last truly hugged Kara if he didn’t count the first day he found himself here. And she’d pushed him away then. This time… This time she wanted it, she was _asking_ for it, and…and how could he say no? After everything he’d been through he needed a tight hug as much as she needed it.

“Of course,” he said with a hoarse voice and hoped Kara didn’t hear the buzzing nervousness behind it. Her face lit up at that. She reached up and wrapped one arm around his neck, pulling him forward and resting her chin on his shoulder. She wasn’t holding back, Mon-El could feel it. She was holding onto him as tightly as possible. It wasn’t as if he was any different, though. His arms were around her waist, holding her desperately, not wanting to let her go for even one second. He buried his nose to the crook of her neck and inhaled her scent, something he’d missed so, so deeply, and never thought that…that he’d be able to do again. She smelled of…of vanilla, and the sun, and everything _good_ in the world, if that was even possible.

It lasted way too short. Kara pulled back a couple of seconds later, yet for Mon-El it felt like it’d been less than one. He blinked his eyes open and looked at her, seeing a wide smile adorning her lips. This time she opened the door when she got a hold of the handle.

“Bye,” she breathed as she stepped out, her eyes flickering to him one last time. All he could do was stay there and watch her as she shut the door, after adding, “Don’t forget to, um, text me.” She turned around afterwards, stood there for a second as if she was trying to decide something, and then she walked away to the entrance of CatCo. Through all that Mon-El’s eyes followed her. She turned back to look at him at the last second, just before she entered the building, and their gazes met briefly, and Kara… She smiled at him with such happiness, as if they hadn’t met just a couple of days ago but they’d spent years together, that his heart fluttered.

He found himself smiling back easily and genuinely, something he hadn’t been able to do for a long time, before she disappeared behind the doors.

The significance of that hit him only then. He was smiling, _truly_ smiling. For the first time in a long time he didn’t _think_ about smiling, he didn’t think whether he was supposed to do it or not. He didn’t have to force it or fake it for anyone. He smiled because he actually _wanted_ to smile, because he was _enjoying_ himself.

Because he was happy. In the… In the short 1.5 hours he spent with Kara he’d been happy, _happier_ than he’d ever been the previous year. He was able to see her, to talk to her, to listen to her; he could joke with her and laugh with her; he could…he could _hug_ her. He’d just hugged her, and it was…

It was probably the last time he ever hugged her. After today… After today, he’d promised himself that he wouldn’t let himself see Kara again and instead focus on fixing the timeline. This was supposed to be a one-time thing, nothing more, and yet…yet he didn’t want it to be a one time thing. He wanted to see her again, and again, and again. He wanted to be able to hear her laugh, and he wanted to be the one to make her laugh. He wanted to talk to her, to listen to her worries and tell her his problems. He wanted to hug her like…like he hadn’t hugged anyone in his life, he wanted to rest his head on her shoulder and let her play with his hair, he wanted to see her eyes shining with joy. He…he wanted to be able to hold her face in his hands, he wanted to be able to lean down and press his lips on hers, he wanted to kiss her again after all that time, letting it erase all the painful memories that had been haunting him since she died. He wanted to do all of that with her.

And he wanted her to be alive.

If he went back in time… If he stopped his mother from changing the timeline… It would mean he’d lose all of that. He’d never get to do any of that again. Panic hit him in the gut, hard, with that thought. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t _not_ see her again. He couldn’t let the life they supposed to have together slip through his fingers. And he couldn’t live another forever without her. Even the thought of it was enough to render him breathless, but actually going through it… He wouldn’t survive. He’d barely made it through losing her the first time, and it’d turned him into a hollow husk; if it happened again… He didn’t know, he didn’t _want_ to know what would become of him. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t, he couldn’t, he couldn’t—

_You’ve never been strong enough to do the right thing_.

He felt his nails bite into his palms as the thought slipped into his mind. He knew it was the truth, he knew his mother was right, more than ever. The right thing… The right thing would be to fix this, now. Who knew how the change in the timeline affected people, was _still_ affecting people. Maybe all those people Supergirl saved was dead now. Maybe their families were crying at their graves while he was here, selfishly wishing this timeline would stick. And Barry had told them, repeatedly, that traveling in time and changing it as you wished had consequences. What if the consequence of this was going to be big and would affect many people’s lives? How could he let that happen? Kara wouldn’t want that, she’d _never_ want that. She’d… She’d want him to do what was the best for everyone. _Protect civilians above all else._ That was, and had always been, her motto. If she was here she’d do the right thing, even if it meant…even if it meant she’d be losing him. And yet…

Yet he was too _weak_ , too _selfish_ , too _afraid_ of being without Kara to do it. When he thought about changing the timeline, all he could think about was the life he’d have to spend without her, the empty days that would be stretching in front of him without her smile to fill them up with warmth and light, the gut-wrenching pain that would threaten to hollow him out every single minute of every single hour, and the hole in his chest that would one day swallow him up whole, so much so that there would be nothing left of him. How was he ever gonna do the right thing? Knowing… Knowing _that_ would be his life? He didn’t know, he didn’t _know_ , and it scared the hell out of him. He didn’t know how to do it, and he would be letting Kara down once again, just like he did when he failed to save her. Just like he did all the damn time.

He was just a coward, and he’d always— _always_ —be a coward. Without her… He’d be…he’d be nothing.

* * *

**_14:33_ **

Mon-El barged into J’onn’s office without bothering to knock, or even check whether the Martian was there or not. He wasn’t in a place to think through any of that. He didn’t even know how he’d managed to drive to DEO considering the state he’d been in. His body had been shaking all over when he left CatCo, tears flowing down his cheeks freely. Driving probably hadn’t been a good idea then, especially since because of a sick feeling twisting his gut he felt dizzy, and his vision was blurry, and he could barely focus on one thing for longer than a couple of seconds. Yet… Yet what choice did he have? He couldn’t stay at CatCo, not somewhere that he was…he was too close to her. He needed to get away, or else… He didn’t even want to know what he’d be doing right now if he was still there.

He’d ruined everything. _Everything_. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t go see Kara in this timeline, and he broke that promise. He’d not only seen her, but he’d talked to her, he’d even…he’d even gone out with her. He’d pretended as if all of that wouldn’t be gone when he changed the timeline. But they would be, they would be gone _forever_ , and now…now that he knew what it felt like to be with her, now that he’d realized how utterly lonely and painful his life without her had been… The thought of letting all that go and go back to that life seemed more _terrifying_ than ever. He was _terrified_ of having to live without her all over again. He was _terrified_ of losing her. He couldn’t do it. He just _couldn’t do it_.

But he didn’t have a choice, did he? He didn’t have a choice other than leaving her, other than letting her go if he wanted to do the right thing. If he wanted to honor her memory and live up to her expectations. She believed that he was a hero. She believed it, and she never let that belief budge, not even when he’d messed up. What would she think if she could see him now? If she saw him choosing himself over the good of everyone else? She’d hate him, she’d be so _disgusted_ of him that she’d probably leave him right at that second. She’d realize that she’d been right before, that he was only a _selfish coward,_ and she shouldn’t have wasted so much time tricking herself into believing he could ever be more. Because he wasn’t more. Because right now, every fiber of his being wanted to stay in this timeline, screaming at him to hold onto it, to do the wrong thing even if it meant not being able to honor Kara. At the end he’d _have_ her here, but if he changed the timeline the memories would be all he was left with.

Memories, and pain, and guilt. They would all eat him up again, every single day, as a reminder of what he could never have.

He couldn’t do it.

“J’onn,” he gasped the moment he entered the room, making the Martian jump at his seat. He looked up at Mon-El with wide eyes. The Daxamite curled his fingers into fists, his nails burrowed into his skin, before he started rambling. The words left his mouth fitfully as he struggled to fill his lungs with enough air to talk properly, so much so that he wasn’t sure if anything he said made any sense. The sentences, the meaning, it was all over the place. “J’onn, I messed up, I—I messed _everything_ up.”

“Mon-El?” the Martian said as he stood up, his eyes alarmed. “What’s—“ Mon-El couldn’t even hear his words as he continued.

“I saw her. I saw her when…when I promised myself that I wouldn’t. I saw _her_ J’onn, and…” He ran his shaky fingers through his hair, pulling the strands. “And I… I smiled. I smiled for the…for the first time in a year, and it felt genuine, and…and real, and I… I’ve never smiled like that, not since I lost her. I felt _happy_.” His breath got hitched in his throat at that as he stopped briefly, trying to gather together his thoughts and get oxygen into his lungs, before he found the strength to continue. He could almost hear his heart crack with every word as it slammed against his ribs. “Oh my God, J’onn, I felt happy with her. Happier… Happier than I’d been for the last year. I could see her and…and talk to her, and hug her—J’onn, I _hugged_ her—and…she was there and she was real, and it felt…it felt so _good_. To… To be with her, it felt so _good_. How am I… How am I gonna leave her? How am I gonna go back in time and…and change it, knowing…knowing it means she’ll be dead all over again? How am I gonna do the right thing?”

J’onn seemed shocked at first as he listened to him, trying to follow everything he was saying. Mon-El was breathing heavily at the end, looking at his shaky hands, looking at the nail marks that punctured his palms and the drops of blood that stained his nails, trying to shut out the pain so, so desperately, yet it didn’t work. It still churned in his stomach, it still circled around his mind, chanting _coward, coward, coward_ over and over and over and over again. His vision blurred with tears as the room around him spun. He didn’t even know how he managed to stay on his feet.

“Hey, Mon-El,” J’onn said, walking around his table to reach him. “Calm down. Just calm down for a—“ Mon-El felt his hand trying to reach for his arm, but he pushed it away fervently. He was shaking all over as he whirled around to face the Martian.

“How can you ask me to calm down?” he asked, his voice so, so thin and so, so small. He was pretty sure he sounded unintelligible. “I messed up. I should’ve never…” Emotions overwhelmed him as his legs finally gave up, and he dropped onto the couch behind him. It was a miracle he made it there before he fell down. His elbows were resting on his knee as he covered his mouth with his hand, trying to suppress a silent sob. “Oh my God, J’onn, I ruined _everything._ ” He didn’t even hear J’onn’s footsteps as the Martian stepped in front of him.

“Don’t say that, Mon-El. There was nothing wrong with what you’ve done.” Mon-El shook his head as another sob wracked his body.

“I’m a coward,” he croaked, trying to swallow and get rid of the knot in his throat. “I’m not a…a hero, I’m not brave, not like…not like her. I’m just sel-selfish, and coward, and I… I can’t do the right thing. I’m too _weak_ to do the right thing. I’m… I’m _nothing_.” Tears started to continuously stream down his face, wetting his cheeks and his fingers, and he couldn’t repress his sobs anymore. They shook him to his core, breaking pieces off of him, leaving him wounded and in pain, as if someone had sliced through him several times. It was too much. It was just too much.

“That’s not true,” J’onn argued as he knelt in front of the Daxamite. Mon-El opened his mouth to disagree but he didn’t let him. “Mon-El, has anyone told you that it’s okay not to be okay?” Mon-El barely registered the words as J’onn spoke. “That there’s nothing wrong with hurting, or messing up, or making mistakes? That it’s okay to _want_ to be selfish?”

“It’s not,” Mon-El whispered, his voice barely audible. “It’s not, and that’s…that’s all I am. I always let people down, I always let…let _her_ down. She deserved better than me. J’onn, she would’ve been…she would’ve been better off without me, and I… I took away everything that she had. I took away _her life_.” He lifted his eyes to look at the Martian. “I should’ve stayed away from her. I should stay away from her but I… I couldn’t, and because of that she’s…”

“Mon-El,” J’onn said almost sternly, putting his hand on Mon-El’s knee. “It wasn’t your fault. It was your mother and the Dominators that took her life, not you. You’re not responsible for your family’s sins.” Mon-El could only shake his head, not trusting his voice. J’onn grabbed his hands that was on his lap, squeezed into fists so tight that the Martian had to use his super strength to pry his fingers open. He almost froze when he saw the nail marks. He looked up at his face. “How long has this been going on?”

“Eleven months,” Mon-El confessed, barely finding his voice. “It kept me focused and…and prevented me from drinking.” He pressed his lips together. “Nothing could hurt me other than myself. It was the only way.” He’d welcomed the constant pain on his palms after some time, maybe because it made him feel something other than emptiness, maybe because he’d deserved to feel pain every single day for causing her death, but either way it’d become a habit.

“Does anyone know?” J’onn asked, concern clouding his tone. Mon-El shook his head no. He’d been careful to hide it from others. J’onn didn’t say anything for a couple of minutes as he watched Mon-El’s face, and the only sound in the room was his sobs. He couldn’t even bother to pull his hands away from J’onn’s.

“You’re not okay,” J’onn stated, holding Mon-El’s hand carefully. “Mon-El, have you ever let yourself be not okay?” The Daxamite blinked bewilderedly.

“What… What are you talking about?”

“Have you ever let someone comfort you when you cry? Have you let someone hug you? Tell you that it’s okay to be sad, it’s okay to break down and cry, it’s okay to be hurting?” Mon-El felt at a loss of words as he stared at J’onn, searching his face. He found his voice a couple of seconds later.

“Oliver and Barry and…and the others, they were there when she—“

“Not just staying by your side, Mon-El,” J’onn interjected gently, “truly comforting you.” Silence stretched between them as understanding filled J’onn’s eyes. “You didn’t let anyone do that.” Mon-El shook his head after a couple of seconds. Pain seeped into J’onn’s features as he shook his head and reached up, pulling him into a hug. The Daxamite was caught too off guard that he couldn’t do anything for a moment as he felt the Martian rub his back.

“You can cry, Mon-El,” he told Mon-El, his voice almost soothing. “You’re allowed to cry, you’re allowed to be weak and fall apart. You shouldn’t try to hold yourself together all the time.” The words echoed inside the Daxamite’s mind for a couple of seconds before tears welled up in his eyes again. This time, though, instead of trying to stop or swallow them, he let them flow down his cheeks. He wrapped his arms around J’onn and buried his face in his shoulder, his nails digging into his shirt. Sobs filled the room as he cried and cried in his arms, even after his throat started hurting. He cried for everything he’d lost and everything he would lose once again, everything he would have to live without. He cried for her, for his Kara, for the unfairness of her death, for the future and happiness he’d taken from her, and for all that she deserved and never got to have. And he’d cried for himself. For the first time he let himself be not okay, and he cried for all the hardships and the pain and the loss he’d gone through. He held onto J’onn, desperately needing someone to hold him tightly, even though he preferred that person to be Kara.

The next words left his mouth without his intention: “J’onn, I don’t wanna lose her again,” he whispered, trying to talk through his tears, and balled the Martian’s shirt in his hand. “I can’t lose her again. I love her. I…I love her.” J’onn squeezed his shoulder, as if trying to provide all the support Mon-El needed.

“I know, Mon-El,” he mumbled, his voice cutting through the sounds of Mon-El’s sobs even though it was so soft. “I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I just wanted to say this, but I'm so very sorry about the ending. I truly am. It physically hurt me to write that. BUT on another note, some good stuff will be coming up in the next few chapters, so get ready ;)


	12. Fear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy this!

**27 th of March, 2022**

**_17:56_ **

Mon-El could feel Alex’s eyes on him as the woman turned over his hands, looking at his palms. He couldn’t look at her, though; he’d fixed his gaze on a spot on the floor. After… After what happened in J’onn’s office, all of his strength had dissipated, leaving its place to constant pain and emptiness. He hadn’t looked in the mirror before the Martian dragged him into the med bay and forced him to sit down to get the wounds on his palms checked, yet he was pretty sure he looked like… Well, as Dana might say, like a Dementor sucked up all of his will to live. His shoulders were slumped, his muscles were limp, and there was no emotion in his eyes except the curtain of tears that fell over them.

The last thing he needed right now was to see the pitiful and worried look on Alex’s face.

Alex traced the blooded nail marks on his palm with a finger. “These look fresh,” she commented, ducking her chin to look at his face. Mon-El clenched his teeth, desperately wanting to curl his fingers into fists, and nodded.

“It happened this afternoon,” he explained with a rusty voice. All that crying and sobbing had taken a toll on him. His eyes flickered to his palms briefly and he winced when he saw the dried red drops around the crescent shapes. _And all the other afternoons, and mornings, and nights for the last eleven months,_ he added inside but didn’t voice the words. Alex didn’t need to know the extent of his pain.

The agent grabbed a piece of cotton and poured a couple of drops of a black liquid on it, pressing it on Mon-El’s palms softly. The wounds stung for a second, but Mon-El didn’t have it in him to even wince. Besides, he’d gotten used to that pain anyway. Instead he stared at Alex’s hands as she very carefully took care of his wounds, not asking him how or why he’d done that. He wondered briefly if J’onn had ordered her not to ask questions. The Martian wasn’t in the room right now, but Mon-El knew he’d talked to Alex when he called her here; it was perfectly possible that he’d set up a “no-questions” rule.

Not that Mon-El minded, of course. Silence was… It was probably for the best, even though it made it really hard for him to shut out his thoughts. And a part of him, even after everything J’onn told him about not keeping all that pain hidden inside, wanted to repress those thoughts, wanted to push them so deep into his mind that they never got out. He was just so _sick_ of feeling this…this _horrible_ feeling in the pit of his stomach that he wanted it gone. He just wanted to feel normal for _one_ second; not happy, not peaceful, not even content but just…just _normal_ , because for the last couple of months he’d been stuck in this cycle of pain, guilt, and depression, barely holding onto life. It was like walking on the edge of a cliff with blindfolds and not knowing what could push you over the edge. But he knew… He knew feeling normal was impossible, because his normal life ended the moment Kara fell down from the sky with that kryptonite knife in her chest.

He felt his hands closing into fists out of habit, at least until Alex grabbed his fingers and stopped him. His eyes shot up to the woman.

“Don’t,” she warned gently, her face soft but demanding. “I don’t want to bandage your hands, Mon-El, but I will if you can’t promise you won’t hurt yourself.” Mon-El swallowed hard as he looked at her, desperately wanting to feel the sting of his nails, before he shook his head. What he was doing was unhealthy, that much he knew; he wasn’t kidding himself into believing it was _normal_ , but…but he needed it. He _needed_ to feel that pain.

“I can’t,” he whispered, using every ounce of his willpower not to clench his fists and crush Alex’s fingers in his hands. “I’m—I’m sorry. I can’t.”

“Mon-El…” Alex had a pained expression as he continued.

“Please don’t bandage them,” he pleaded, feeling tears building up in his throat. “It’s… It keeps me going. It helps me cope. _Please_.” The agent must’ve seen something in his eyes—Mon-El really didn’t want to know what it was—that she nodded, though she didn’t remove her hands from his palms.

“Okay, I won’t. Not if you don’t want me to.” She squeezed his hands briefly. “But then you need to promise me that you’ll…you’ll at least try to stop. Can you do that?” Worry had seeped into her features as she ducked her chin to catch Mon-El’s eyes. The Daxamite pressed his lips together harshly and nodded, even though he knew… He knew it would be next to impossible to keep that promise.

“Good,” Alex mumbled as she put a hand on Mon-El’s shoulder and rubbed it soothingly before she reached for a cream-like substance and applied it on his palms. Her brows were furrowed as she continued silently for a couple of seconds. “I’m just worried, Mon-El,” she admitted finally, putting aside the medical supplies. “J’onn asked me not to ask questions, but… Gosh, seeing you like this is so hard. You’ve… You’ve always been so…uplifted, and cheerful, and…and the most joyful one of us, but now it’s like you’ve made a complete 180. I’ve never seen you this defeated. I’ve never seen _anyone_ this defeated.” Mon-El felt his shoulders slump with her words even more, as if the last bit of strength he had was gone. He tried to blink away his tears.

“I… Alex, I don’t know how to be okay anymore,” he confessed, his voice so small and low that he doubted the agent heard. “I don’t know how to _pretend_ to be okay.” He’d gone so long without feeling fine that he didn’t even know how it felt or looked like anymore.

“Then let us help,” Alex begged, reaching for his chin and lifting his head up. Her eyes were full of concern and pleas. “We’re your friends. Let us help you be okay.”

_I don’t think that’s possible._

He cleared his throat before pushing himself off the bed, pressing his fingertips on his palms to keep himself from using his nails. “Thank you for…for taking care the wounds,” he said without looking directly into Alex’s eyes. “But if…if it’s done, I just… I think it’d be for the best if I just went to my house.” He waited for Alex to say something for one second before walking around her to the door. She stopped him before he could get out.

“Mon-El, wait.” He turned around slowly, only to see the woman standing right in front of him. Alex looked into his eyes for one second, a grimace pulling her face, before she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into a hug. He was caught too off guard to even hug her back.

“I’m sorry that you’re going through…whatever it is that you’re going through. And if you need us…” She pulled back at that, her hands resting on his shoulders. “ _Any_ of us, we’re here for you, and our ears are open. Just… Just remember that.” Mon-El could only nod, not trusting his voice. This time Alex let him leave, though he could feel her eyes on his back as he walked away, her arms crossed over her chest and worry etched into her figures. He did his best to ignore it. He knew he’d let her down, just like he’d let _everyone_ down in his life, and he was already broken enough without adding that into the mess.

He had to pry his fingers open when he felt his nails puncturing his palm again. He turned to the exit, wanting to get the hell out of this place and be alone as fast as possible, before J’onn’s voice filled his ears.

“Mon-El.” He stopped without turning around, hearing the Martian’s footsteps approach him. “Where are you going?”

“To my house.” He still couldn’t get rid of the hoarseness in his voice even though it’d been a couple of hours since he cried. “I… I need some time alone, J’onn.” J’onn’s eyes were understanding as he nodded, and then glanced at Mon-El’s hands. He frowned.

“I thought Alex was supposed to bandage them.” The Daxamite winced at that and pressed his lips together. Shame churned in his gut.

“I asked her not to,” he admitted with a whisper, looking at his hands. The red marks were still visible on his palms, even though Alex cleared away most of the dried blood. “I need it. I need… I need the pain.” _It’s the only way I know I’m still real_ , he thought but didn’t say the words out loud, though he did wonder if J’onn read them from his mind. _It’s the only way I know I’m not completely hollowed out._

_I deserve it._

Mon-El had expected J’onn to scold him for it, but the Martian just looked at him with a pained expression and took one of his hands, squeezing it briefly before he dropped it. He changed the subject afterwards.

“I asked Alex to bring something for you,” he said and lifted a black backpack. “I didn’t tell her why, and she promised she wouldn’t ask any questions, but… I think this might be good for you.” He flashed Mon-El a small smile before handing him the bag. Mon-El lifted his brows at that before he looked inside.

And he came to a complete stop.

There was no way he didn’t recognize what was in the backpack, even though most of it would probably look like a bunch of clothes to other people. But it wasn’t just… It wasn’t just a bunch of clothes with no meaning. The colorful tops and bottoms, the plaid shirts and pencil skirts and business dresses, they screamed… They screamed her. They screamed _Kara_. With a shaky hand he took the shirt that was on the top out of the bag, the piece of fabric dangling from his hands.

“J’onn, this is—“ he started, yet there were no words to explain it. He could feel his heart slamming against his ribs, he could feel his stomach twisting and turning at even the sight of…of a _piece_ of her, he could feel the pressure on his chest threatening to leave him breathless, but… But he still couldn’t look away.

“It’s Kara’s clothing, photos, and a couple of her belongings that she doesn’t use anymore,” J’onn explained, though he didn’t need to. He searched Mon-El’s face for…for something the Daxamite couldn’t figure out, and didn’t really care at that point. “I wanted you to have a part of her,” J’onn continued. “Even if it isn’t your Kara. You deserve this.” He stopped there, but the unsaid words hung in the air between them. _And I know how much you miss the reminders of all those memories you’ve had with her._

Mon-El’s eyes flickered to the black-and-white shirt in his hand, tears welling up in his eyes all over again. He shut them to keep himself from crying and brought the shirt up to his face, burying his nose in it. It smelled of…of happiness, of joy, of all the nights he spent with Kara where he laid his head on her chest, of cuddling with her on the couch while watching a movie and wrapping his arms around her from behind to rest his chin on her shoulder, of doing the laundry and folding her clothes while he was watching a TV show, of the scent of burnt caramel and overcooked cookies that sometimes stuck on Kara’s clothes when she tried to cook, of sleeping in her arms every night and waking up in them every morning, , of…of having her by his side, supporting him, loving him, giving him everything he could ever want in the universe. It smelled of _home_. A tear escaped his eyes as he balled his fist around the shirt and dropped his hand, looking at it for a couple of seconds more before putting it inside the bag.

He knew J’onn was right in front of him and watching him as he rummaged through the bag, he was all too aware of the tears streaming down his cheeks, and he knew they were right in the middle of the DEO where everyone could see them, yet he didn’t care. He looked at almost every single thing in the bag, one by one. There was at least five other pieces of clothing, and he’d even recognized one of them: The white sweater she’d worn the night they’d gotten together, after she defeated Mxy. There was a blue notepad with pink hearts shining on it, which made a smile pull his lips. He remembered Kara having it for the first couple of months he was on Earth, using it to take notes when she was out on reporting business. He flipped through the pages, her words scribbled on almost every corner of every page with several arrows and links to connect them together in a way that made no sense to Mon-El. He even caught a few words about Cadmus, the Daxamite invasion, and…and about the “mysterious alien” in the city that were helping people. There were question marks around it, as if she was trying to figure out who it could be.

The name _Valor_ popped up a couple of pages later. His vision blurred when he saw the definitions written underneath it. _Strength_. _Bravery. Honor._

There were checkmarks next to each of them, as if she’d _approved_ the name.

He closed the notebook, letting the bag dangle from his left arm as he put it back inside. He found a Russian nesting doll then, the one that he remembered rested on Kara’s bookcase as a decoration. It even had the same pattern on it. He swiped his finger over it, remembering how Kara sat him on the bed and explained what the doll was when he asked about it. _It’s basically dolls of different sizes placed inside each other,_ she’d said and showed him all of them, from the biggest to smallest. He might’ve had examined them a bit too meticulously, so much so that Kara had smiled at his exaggerated interest in them. He pressed the doll over his heart for a second, savoring the memory, before placing it inside the bag carefully so as not to damage it.

His fingers then hit a rectangular object. Frowning he grabbed it and pulled it from underneath the pile of clothes. It didn’t take him too long to realize what it was. Kara’s photograph, one that looked like it wasn’t taken too long ago. She was wearing a white lace dress with thick straps covering her shoulders. She was standing on top of a building, staring at the sunset. Well, at least Mon-El assumed whoever had the camera intended to take a photo of her looking at the sun, but at the last second Kara must’ve turned around, because her blue eyes were fixed on the camera. Her hair had been thrown on her face because of wind, yet she still managed to smile, and with the sunset shining right behind her… She looked spectacular, so much so that…that it made him remember the mess he’d made with digital cameras. He could never snap a photo of her this…this beautiful; they always ended up being too blurry, too dark, or even too _bright_. He was never able to get it right.

Tears welled up in his eyes, and he couldn’t take his eyes off of the photo, even though… Well, even though he’d seen Kara merely a couple of hours ago. She was so beautiful, so, so beautiful and perfect and…and happy, she was looking at the camera so much like how she’d looked at him when he was trying to take a photo of her, that it felt like the photo jumped out of that timeline and somehow ended up here. He felt his fingers closing around the frame tightly, and he stopped himself, not wanting to ruin it. He placed it back inside the backpack before looking up at J’onn.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice cracking in the middle. He was holding the strap of the bag so tightly that he was worried it would rip apart in his hands, yet he couldn’t help himself. He pulled it close and pressed it to his chest, wanting to get as close to it as possible. As close to _her_ as possible. “J’onn, I don’t know what to say.”

A corner of J’onn’s lips tipped up as he shook his head. “Just rest, Mon-El,” he told him, his voice almost demanding. “Tomorrow is gonna be a long day.” Nodding, Mon-El offered him a small, forced smile, before turning around and entering the elevator, never letting the bag get too far away from him.

He never let the bag get too far away, even as he went to sleep, hugging Kara’s clothes tightly as he curled up under the blanket, with her belongings resting on the counter.

* * *

**28 th of March, 2022**

**_11:38_ **

“Mon-El,” Rhea spoke the moment Mon-El opened the door and entered the room, her eyes finding his as if she’d felt him coming. “I knew you’d come back here.” A small smile was playing on her lips, a smile that made Mon-El’s blood go cold as he held the door. J’onn followed him immediately. “And I see you brought back-up.”

J’onn didn’t even bother with her as he turned to Mon-El, grabbing the Daxamite’s arm softly to get his attention. “Mon-El, are you sure you want to be here?” he asked, his voice lower than Rhea could hear. It was probably the fourth or fifth time he’d asked the same question that morning. Mon-El knew the Martian was just worried about him, especially after finding out everything Rhea said the last time he faced her, but…but he _had to be_ here. Avoiding this conversation would only prove what Rhea told him, and what _he’d_ been thinking for a long time now: That he was a _coward._

Besides, even though J’onn had seen his memories, he was still the only one who thoroughly knew Rhea and her intentions. If they wanted to get her talking, if they wanted to convince her to help them… He had the most chance of doing so.

Even if the idea of changing the timeline and…and losing Kara all over again _terrified_ him.

 _It doesn’t matter,_ he’d told himself the whole morning, hoping if he said it enough times he’d start believing in it. Fixing time was the right thing to do. If he let this continue… There could be consequences, and there’s was no way to know what they would be. Kara always said… She believed that nothing in life happened without a purpose. For example, she and Clark were spared from Krypton’s destruction to protect Earth. He was spared from Daxam for the same reason. She even said that…that Mon-El was stuck in the Well of Stars for just enough years so that they could meet at the right time and be together. She believed the universe…Rao…God…whatever you wanted to call had a plan for everyone. If she was here, she’d probably say that Rhea making him remember about the other timeline wasn’t just her punishment for him. It’d happened so that…so that he could find a way to fix it. And it didn’t matter how painful it would be or that he didn’t know who he’d become once everything was back to the way it was, he had to do it.

So he would be here, he would talk to his mother until he found a way to do all that, and maybe…maybe honor Kara’s memory and wishes that way, by…by being the person she always believed he was.

“Yes,” he whispered to J’onn with a curt nod, thanking the universe he sounded determined. _Let’s just get over with this._ He turned to his mother just as she continued talking.

“You didn’t have it in you to do the right thing by yourself, so you asked for someone else to urge you? Pathetic, really.” Mon-El clenched his teeth and curled his fingers into fists as he stared at her, an objection forming on his lips. J’onn was faster than him.

“We’re just trying to fix the damage you’ve caused to time,” he answered, his voice calm and collected as ever. They knew before coming in that Rhea would manipulate Mon-El into doubting himself, trying to make him feel bad about his decision, so they decided it would be better if J’onn took the lead. And if it seemed like they weren’t going anywhere with the interrogation, the Martian could easily read Rhea’s mind as well.

“The damage?” Rhea asked, fixing her gaze on her son. “That’s not the word I would use to describe this timeline. Wouldn’t you agree, Mon-El?” She stood up from the cot she was sitting on and stepped towards the window, her brows raised with amusement. “How is your relationship with Kara going, now that she’s back from the dead?”

“It’s none of your business—“ Mon-El tried to say between his teeth, but before he could even get a word out Rhea continued.

“You surely wouldn’t want to ruin it by causing her death all over again?” She shot him an almost nonchalant look— _almost_ —yet for someone who’d known Rhea for a long time it was obvious that she was enjoying it. Mon-El felt his nails bite into his palms, threatening to open the wounds all over again, and he had to cross his arms to prevent himself from doing that. He was _trying_ , he really _was_ , but he’d gone so long using the—the pain on his palms to distract himself from painful thoughts that it was hard to suddenly give it up. Without it… His mother’s words started circling around in his mind and it was almost _impossible_ to shut them out. He closed his eyes and tried to take a deep breath. It didn’t work. The words started echoing in his ears without his intention, even though he’d been trying so hard to forget his…his nightmare. For the last couple of days, ever since he woke up in this timeline he’d been seeing the same thing, no matter how much he tried not to. It would start with him in the…in the funeral, staring at Kara’s body that lied in the…in the coffin. He’d barely managed to get a glance at her then before he ran away then, yet he still remembered every single detail: The way her hair cascaded around the pillow, her pink lips curled into a small smile, her pink dress covering her body, her hands resting on her stomach with a blue ribbon wrapped around her wrist… She’d almost looked alive then, just like she did in her dream. Well, at least the version of her in the casket looked alive. The one that walked up to his side a couple of seconds afterwards…

She didn’t look alive at all.

In the dream— _nightmare_ —he wouldn’t notice her at first, at least not until she put her hand on the casket and looked down at her own body. _I look beautiful,_ she’d say, _and alive. I never knew one could look beautiful in death._ And then she’d turn to Mon-El with her…with her eyes that were two blank holes, with her face as pale as paper, her skin cracked around her skull and neck… His breath would get hitched in his throat as he tried to reach for her. But his hand… His hand would go right through her. Somehow, each night he knew it would happen, yet he kept trying, as if one day it would work, one day he’d be able to grab her hand and pull her back to life, and they’d be together again.

It never worked.

 _You can’t touch me,_ Kara would say then, looking up at him. _You killed me, remember? You stabbed me with a kryptonite knife._ He couldn’t even disagree with her as she’d continue, stepping close to him, her eyes that looked like black holes never leaving his face. _And you’re planning on changing the timeline, stealing my life just like you did a year ago. Are you going to kill me again, Mon-El?_ He’d open his mouth then to say something, but the words would get stuck in his throat as tears started to stream down his face. He’d try to apologize, he’d try to say that he loved her and he was trying _so hard_ to do the right thing for her, to _honor_ her, yet he couldn’t find his voice. He couldn’t say anything.

He’d wake up right after that, with her words haunting him, just like they did now as he stared at Rhea.

_Are you going to kill me again? Are you going to kill me again? Are you going to kill me again?_

“He’s doing the right thing.” J’onn’s voice took him out of his thoughts, and he gladly accepted the distraction. The Martian’s hard gaze was fixed on Rhea as he continued. “And that’s all you need to know about that.” Rhea turned her eyes to him with that, and she seemed like she wanted to say something but then decided against it. She shrugged as she sat back on her cot.

“I can’t help you fix the timeline,” she stated, “just like I told my son before. I don’t have my powers anymore.” Mon-El clenched his teeth and straightened up his shoulders, trying to hide the tension buzzing in his stomach.

“Excuse me if I don’t believe you,” he hissed, uncrossing his arms. “The last time you were on Earth, all those years ago, all you did was try to manipulate me into doing what _you_ wanted me to do.”

“And what am I manipulating you into right now, Mon-El?” Rhea asked, her voice sharp as knife. “What could I gain from staying in this timeline, where I’m indefinitely locked in this prison?” Mon-El opened his mouth to shot back an answer, yet he couldn’t come up with anything. Fortunately J’onn interrupted at that second.

“We don’t need to know why you’re doing this,” he said, stepping closer to the cell. “We do need to know how you did it so that we can figure out the best way to fix it.” He looked down at his notes before asking the first question while Mon-El lurked in the back, wanting to be as far away from Rhea as possible. He was already barely holding everything together, he didn’t need his mother to rip off those thin threads and leave him in pieces. J’onn already had the list of questions they planned to ask her.

“Well, then I’d suggest you get along with your questions. I have nothing to hide.” J’onn shot her a disbelieving look before starting. From the crease on his forehead, Mon-El could see that he was reading Rhea’s mind to see if she was lying or not.

“How did you change the timeline?” Rhea lifted her brow and chuckled.

“I would’ve thought you would figure that one out by now.” She stopped for a second to check both J’onn and Mon-El’s eyes. “I prevented Kara from becoming Supergirl, meeting you, and, consequently, dying.” There was a cold smile on her face. Mon-El squeezed his hands into fists as he couldn’t help stepping forward.

“We know that,” he growled, focusing on his anger instead of the pang of pain that hit him in the chest. “ _How_ did you do it? How did you keep Kara from saving that plane to save her sister? How—“ He was breathing heavily when he felt J’onn’s hand on his arm and stopped.

“Mon-El,” J’onn warned him, urging him to stand back. “Don’t let her get under your skin.” Mon-El looked at the Martian, the words building up in his throat. He had to dig his nails into his palms to keep himself from talking more. Instead he opted to glare at Rhea as J’onn took over, again.

“Answer his questions,” he told Rhea, placing himself between Mon-El and the woman. Rhea’s face was completely blank; she didn’t even waste any time before answering.

“I stopped Alex from boarding the plane,” she explained nonchalantly, as if it had been as easy for her as a flick of wrist. “Kara didn’t have any reason to save it.” J’onn lifted his brows.

“How?”

“Her car had an accident.” Mon-El blinked with that, the word leaving his mouth without his intention.

“ _What_?” Rhea’s eyes snapped at her, amusement flickering in them.

“I think I was pretty clear. The Martian can tell you, since he’s reading my mind right now.” She crossed her arms over her chest. J’onn’s muscles locked as he stared down at her, as if desperately trying to understand her game. It was harder for him to read alien minds, especially if they were prepared; Mon-El knew. It seemed like Rhea knew that as well. And with her cunning, it would be all too easy for her to twist her memories in a way that would make it impossible for J’onn to sift reality through lies.

She stepped forward, right in front of the glass window of the cell, fixing her gaze on J’onn. “Don’t worry, I’m not trying to manipulate anything. As I said, I have nothing to hide, and there’s no way for you to change the timeline anyway.” Mon-El curled his fingers into fists as he shook his head, as if just denying her words would make them wrong.

“That’s not true,” he said, grateful that he sounded relatively normal. Considering the situation he was in, that was the best he could ask for. “Maybe… Maybe we wouldn’t have a chance if you didn’t make me remember, but thanks to you we do now. We’ll… We’ll figure out a way.” He didn’t know if he wanted to be right or not, yet he still kept his eyes on Rhea. The woman didn’t even seem impressed as she tilted her head slightly.

“Mon-El, do you really think I would let you keep your memories if I thought you could change the timeline?” she asked, her voice low and almost mysterious. “I told you, you don’t have it in you. You won’t let Kara go, now that you have her back. Even if we were on Daxam now, you wouldn’t be able to do it.” She lifted her chin, a small smile playing on her lips. “I watched you for months after Kara died, while I was building that time machine. You were _devastated_. Lonely. Hollow. In _pain_. Do you really want to go back to that life, if you can even call it living?” Her words hit Mon-El like a punch in the gut, and his breath got caught up in his throat. He couldn’t even find an answer to that. All those feelings she’d described… He’d _felt_ them all in the few months after Kara was gone,, and they were… They were the _worst_ months of his life. Coming from someone that grew up in an unloving, abusive home, that said something. Nothing had ever come close to hurting him as much as Kara’s death did. It was like… It was like his _whole life_ had gotten ripped off of his hands. His mother was right, he hadn’t been even living, at least not until…

Not until she changed the timeline and he got to see Kara again.

“No,” he whispered finally, stepping forward. Rhea seemed to be caught off guard by his honesty. “No, mother, I don’t want it. I don’t want to lose her again, I don’t want to go back to being without her. And yes, you’re right, even thinking about it _terrifies_ me. But it doesn’t matter.” His voice started quivering as he fervently tried to blink his tears away. “Because I’m…I’m not you. I don’t do bad things to get what I want. I’m a…a _hero_.” The word had a bitter taste in his mouth, as if it didn’t belong there, yet he didn’t let that show. “And heroes do what’s right no matter what. No matter… No matter how hard or painful it might be, they sacrifice their happiness for the good of others. I don’t know what you think of me, but that’s who I am.” _That’s who Kara believed I was, and I’m gonna try so damn hard to live up to that._

Rhea didn’t say anything for a moment, but then her surprise was replaced with a confident look. She shrugged nonchalantly. “I guess we’ll see about that, don’t we?” With that she sat on the cot again, her shoulders squared. It was obvious from her posture that neither Mon-El nor J’onn could get anything else from her. Mon-El clenched his teeth and shook his head, spinning around to leave.

“Let’s go,” he told J’onn without waiting for him to follow. “We won’t get anything else from her.” He heard the Martian’s footsteps follow him as he rushed out the room. J’onn shut the door behind them before turning to the Daxamite. Mon-El didn’t even realize he was balling his fists all over again before he felt J’onn’s hand over his, silently urging him to relax his hands. It wasn’t a demand but more of a request, yet Mon-El still uncurled his fingers, tucking his hands into his pockets to keep himself from hurting his palm again.

“I think she was telling the truth,” J’onn said, his voice low and soft as ever. “She tried to shut me out, pulling me into a mental maze, but I managed to get a good glimpse when you surprised her with your words.” He didn’t need to say what he was talking about. “She really doesn’t know a way to fix this, nor she thinks we have a way.” Mon-El clenched his teeth tightly, trying to gather up his thoughts, before he spoke.

“I might.” He almost had to force the words out. “Have a way, I mean.” J’onn’s eyes filled with questions as he stayed silent, waiting for Mon-El to continue. He took a deep breath. “I know someone who can travel in time.” The Martian seemed confused at first until it hit him.

“You mean the Flash. Barry Allen.”

“Or the Legends team,” Mon-El added. “They’re… They’re Time Masters, they might be even more willing to help.” J’onn searched his face for a couple of seconds.

“Mon-El, they’re in another universe,” he started, looking almost desperate. “I know from your memories that it’s possible to travel between worlds, but I have no idea how _we_ will figure that out. Besides, even if we do, none of them would remember you. What makes you think they wouldn’t just try to throw you into a prison?” A knot lodged in his throat as Mon-El tried to shrug.

“I’ll just have to take that risk, I guess,” he whispered, trying not to show his fear, and…and the fact that there was a huge part of him that wished they’d never find their way to Barry’s earth. He looked up at J’onn finally. “Thank you for helping, J’onn. I don’t know… I don’t think I could do this without you.” The Martian offered him a smile.

“What are families for?” Despite the situation, Mon-El felt himself smile back at him, even though it was a small one. He was just getting ready to turn around and leave when J’onn stopped him. “Mon-El…” he said, waiting for the Daxamite to turn to him. There was a business card in his hand. “I think you should have this back.”

Mon-El didn’t even have to ask what it was as he stared at it, his heart skipping a beat. He shook his head almost immediately. “No, I can’t.”

“Mon-El—“

“I’m not calling her, J’onn!” he objected, his hands shaking. He clenched his fists as he tore his eyes away from the card. “I don’t want it. I… I can’t keep seeing her.” _It’s hard enough to think about leaving her now, if we actually build a relationship… I might never be able to do the right thing. And even if I do… I don’t think I’ll survive it._ The words didn’t leave his mouth but instead echoed in his head, yet he was sure the Martian could hear them. They hung in the air before he spoke.

“I know you’re scared, Mon-El,” he said almost soothingly, his eyes filled with understanding. “I’ve seen how much you love her, and how deeply it wounded you when she was gone. But this might be your only chance to see her alive again. Once the timeline is fixed, she’ll be gone, forever.” Mon-El couldn’t help wincing with that as J’onn continued. “And yes, when that happens it’ll hurt, even if you don’t have a relationship here. But don’t lose this chance given to you just because you’re afraid of getting hurt.” He took Mon-El’s hands and tucked the business card in it. “Call her. Talk to her. Spend time with her. And if you want, you can even ask her out. But just see her when you can. If you don’t, you’ll regret it forever.” He looked into the Daxamite’s eyes, waiting for him to answer. Mon-El was speechless as he stared at Kara’s card, fear knotting his stomach. He shook his head again.

“I can’t,” he whispered, feeling his shoulders slump. Maybe it was weak to refuse to see her, maybe it made him a coward, yet he didn’t really care. He couldn’t let himself get hurt again. He was just too exhausted for that. He wouldn’t survive it. “J’onn, I can’t.” The Martian looked at him sympathetically, without an ounce of judgment in his eyes.

“I won’t force you,” he said, reaching forward and squeezing Mon-El’s arm. “But… I lost my family too, Mon-El, and I haven’t seen them in years. I won’t be able to see them for decades to come. But if I was given the chance to do that for even just a week before they would be taken away again, I would do it no matter how much it might hurt losing them all over again. It would be better than not seeing them at all.” He ducked his chin to look at Mon-El’s eyes. “I just don’t want you to regret your decision once you’re back. So think about it, okay? You don’t have to do it, but don’t completely discard the idea.” He patted Mon-El on the shoulder supportively before he walked away, leaving the Daxamite alone with his thoughts.

* * *

**_14:09_ **

Mon-El was sure it’d been hours since he came into the training room, yet somehow it felt like it was only minutes. His pounding heart, the fear, and the anxiety buzzing in his stomach somehow made minutes pass as fast as seconds, even though the clock on the wall showed it was already 14:09. Which meant that he’d been sitting here for two and a half hours now, with one hand clasped around his phone and the other holding Kara’s business card.

He was sure he’d have buried his nails into his palms a long time ago if his hands weren’t full.

He wanted to call her. He couldn’t even deny that. He wanted to hear her voice, her laugh, her smile; he wanted to hear her fumble over her words and stutter; he wanted to hear her joy and liveliness that somehow oozed out of her even when she wasn’t in a good mood. It’d just been a day since he last saw her, and he’d basically spent a year without her, yet somehow he’d missed her voice _so much_ that he didn’t even have the words to explain it. It was scary, how _easily_ he’d gotten used to her presence _again_ in a matter of _days_ when he could never get used to her absence in a year. Yet it’d happened, and there was nothing he could do about it.

He squeezed the phone in his hand, trying not to use too much force so that it wouldn’t turn into a pile of useless metal and wires, yet even then he could hear it crack. He loosened his grip. He’d added her number in after J’onn left, and he’d already opened his phone five times now, almost calling her in each one of those times. The screen always went dark before he could decide.

Shutting his eyes, he rested his forehead on his hand, almost crushing the business card in his fist. Tears had been building up in his throat for a long time now, so much so that he wasn’t even sure how he was holding on anymore. _Coward,_ a voice whispered to him in his mind. Who would be scared of merely a phone call? Yet he was _terrified_.

Well, he wasn’t actually afraid of the call. He was afraid of what could come afterwards. He was afraid that…that once he saw Kara again, he wouldn’t be able to tear himself away from her. He’d get attached to her all over again…only to lose her all over again. And knowing how that felt like…

That was something he _never_ wanted to experience again.

But… But J’onn’s words somehow had etched into his head, and there was no way he could stop them from circling around. _This might be your only chance to see her alive again, ever. Once the timeline is fixed, she’ll be gone, forever_. And how true that was. Death meant… Death meant no second chances, no going back, no trying again. It was _final_ , it was _the end_. Yet somehow he’d _gotten_ a second chance. Somehow he could see Kara again, he could spend time with her, and even though it wasn’t ideal it was… It was better than nothing, wasn’t it? Even knowing she’d be gone again, how could he just turn his back on the opportunity to see her again?

He lifted his head before he even thought about it, his fingers swiping over his phone’s screen and opening his contacts. He stopped on Kara’s name. His finger froze right over it. He was hesitating, again. He hated himself for it, he hated this _indecisiveness,_ and he knew if he let the phone close again he would never get the courage to open it once more, yet he still hesitated.

But this time, he managed to shake off that hesitation before any of that happened, and he pressed his finger on the number. The call screen popped up.

His hands were shaking as he brought the phone to his ear, his heart slamming against his ribs. The phone rang once, twice, this time every second feeling longer than a minute. He was so close to just giving up and ending the call when he heard the telltale click that indicated she’d answered. His muscles locked as he waited for her to say something.

“Hello?” Kara’s voice rang through the phone as Mon-El’s eyes fell shut, letting it wash over him. She sounded chirpy and joyous, as if she didn’t have anything to worry about in the world, as if she was completely light and unburdened. She used to always be like that. In fact, _they_ used to be like that. Light and carefree and…and happy. They used to be happy.

He’d already missed it before, yet he’d never wished so terribly to go back to that as he wished at that second. He cleared his throat to get rid of the knot in it and forced a smile.

“Hey, Kara. I… I’m—“

“Mon-El!” Kara exclaimed almost immediately, before he could even say his name. “Oh my God, you…you _actually_ called.” Mon-El couldn’t help snorting at that as he ducked his chin, making sure his voice sounded normal and not like he was on the verge of tears.

“Yeah, well… I said I would, didn’t I?” He could hear Kara shuffling through some papers.

“Not really. Well, to be honest, I basically tucked that card into your shirt pocket and told you to call me, but you didn’t really answer.” There was a smile in her voice that eased the tension in Mon-El’s shoulders as he answered.

“I did say I’d like us to…to see each other again?” he offered, the words rolling off of his tongue easier than he thought they would. It felt like…like whichever version of Kara he was talking to, or whatever their relationship was, he could always talk to her without worry and she’d always manage to take his strain away. “Or did you think I’d bail on you?” Well, he was about to bail on her, but…but for a completely different reason than she’d probably thought.

“It _did_ cross my mind. I’ve never had the best luck with relationships.” She immediately stopped, and the Daxamite even heard her clamp her mouth shut and slam her hand over it. “I mean, _any_ kind of relationship. Like friendships or…or family relationships and all, not just…not just romantic ones. I didn’t mean it as a romantic relationship.” She chuckled nervously, as if trying to pretend her words were meaningless. Mon-El felt a smile pull his lips, even though her first word made his heart sink. He tried to shake the feeling off.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” he said with a gulp, shaking his head. “But I tend to keep my promises, so you don’t have to worry about that.” _I would never hurt you._ He truly hoped that would be true and he would be able to hold onto his promises without telling too many lies. He hated lying to Kara, yet…yet there was no way he could explain a whole another timeline to her. A timeline in which they’d been together, _engaged_ , and she _died_. Besides the fact that she wouldn’t believe it, she didn’t need that kind of a burden on her shoulders. She deserved to enjoy whatever life she had in this timeline before he changed it, and he’d be damned if he took that away.

That didn’t mean he didn’t want to try and be a part of it.

“Good. That’s…good.” There was a short silence before she continued. “So, how was your day? I haven’t seen you on the news. Not much to do for Valor?” Her voice dropped low, almost mysterious, when she mumbled his superhero name. He tensed with that, yet he quickly shook it away.

“Not much out there. I’d been… I’d been interrogating an alien about a situation.” That, he felt, was the understatement of the year.

He could feel Kara’s curiosity, and the way her ears perked up, even through the phone. “Oh, is that something I can write about?” Mon-El shook his head until he realized she couldn’t see him.

“No, not really,” he added. “You don’t need to worry yourself over that. It isn’t a threat for the public, or…or you.” _Not anymore, at least, not since she…_ He didn’t have it in him to finish that sentence.

“Well, duh, I’m basically invincible,” Kara joked. “And I have heat vision. And freeze breath. Oh, and I can fly. I think, at least.” Mon-El couldn’t help laughing at her words, and he could almost see her beaming.

“Yeah, I know,” he admitted, remembering all those times she’d used her powers to save the day. Kara seemed confused as she continued.

“You do?”

“Well, Superman is Kryptonian too, isn’t he?” He hoped Kara would buy his excuse and wouldn’t press him. And technically, it wouldn’t be a lie. It seemed like he knew Superman well in this timeline.

“Oh, right. Forgot that.” She laughed again shyly, probably adjusting her glasses. That was what she always did when she was nervous. “Anyway, so… Did you call me to ask me if…if we could meet again?” Mon-El felt his breath get hitched in his throat as he gulped, trying to gather up his courage.

“Yes,” he whispered before clearing his throat, trying to get rid off the hoarseness in his voice. “I mean, of course if you, um, you want it too?” He had no idea why his heart was stuttering in his chest, like…like he was asking her on a date. As if it could ever be a date. As if he could let it get that far.

“Yeah. Yeah, sure. How about, uh… Tomorrow night? We could get some dinner together. There’s a really nice pizza place that I know.” A corner of Mon-El’s lips tipped up.

“Only if there’s ham and pineapple,” he stated, letting his head rest on the wall behind him. He could feel Kara’s surprise.

“Ham and pineapple?” she asked. “You like ham and pineapple on pizza?”

“Yeah. You don’t?” The question left his mouth, even though he already knew the answer. Kara’s laugh came seconds later.

“Are you kidding me? I absolutely love it. I just can’t find many people that feels the same.”

“I know how that feels like,” Mon-El said with a nod, a small smile plastered on his face. “So… It’s a date?”

“Yeah,” Kara started, before immediately correcting herself. “I mean, not a date-date. Just a… Just a friendly date. I mean, a _friendly_ get together… Right?” The last question left her mouth in a low voice, as if…as if she wasn’t looking for a confirmation but waiting for him to say…to say that…

“Yeah, a friendly get together,” Mon-El agreed with a gulp, cursing himself for ever using the word _date._ He shook his head. “Tomorrow at… How is 7 p.m. for you?” he instead asked to change the subject. Even through the phone he knew that she was nodding.

“That’s great,” she said, almost sounding disappointed. “I’ll text you the address.” She stopped for a second. “See you tomorrow then, Mon-El.” Mon-El took a deep breath as he pushed himself off of the floor, tucking one hand into his pocket.

“Yeah, see you,” he said, hearing Kara end the call a couple of seconds afterwards. He let his hand drop from his ear, holding onto the phone, wondering what the hell he’d gotten himself into.


	13. Superheroes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all!
> 
> Okay, I just needed to say this, but today I'd finished chapter 20 in this fanfic, and decided to check the word count, and my jaw literally dropped, because.......It actually almost reached 150K words. 150,000 words!!!! I'm only 50 words away from it (exactly 50 words, let me add) and it just made me feel so emotional I cannot even explain, because I've been writing this story for so long, I feel so connected to it, that seeing it become this huge thing that I'm so proud of... It just made me feel so good about myself, and I just had to share that excitement with you. Anyway. I just wanted to say that.
> 
> Also, according to my plan I only have 5 chapters left to write, and once I get those done I'm planning on posting them more frequently, maybe twice or even three times a week. Just wanted to let you know. So don't be surprised if you see me updating faster ;)
> 
> Now that we've gotten those out of the way, enjoy the chapter!

**3 rd of April, 2022**

**_18:22_ **

Balancing two beers and a club soda in two hands, Mon-El smiled up at the bartender and thanked her before returning to his table. He slid the beers over it. “Two beers for the beautiful ladies,” he announced as he sat down, putting his club soda in front of himself. “And a club soda for me.” Maggie flashed him a smile.

“Well, thank you very much,” she said, grabbing her beer and taking a sip. “You know, you would’ve actually made a pretty good bartender.” Mon-El found himself laughing as he shrugged, thinking about the two years he spent bartending in this very bar. He straightened up.

“We Daxamites do have an extensive knowledge of alcoholic beverages.” Alex snorted at his words as she leaned forward, her shoulder brushing Maggie’s. She put her hand on her girlfriend’s.

“Oh, trust me, we know,” she agreed, a small grin playing on her lips. “I _still_ can’t pronounce some of the drinks you prepared for us. Maggie, do you remember the name of that pink cocktail he made on Valentine’s day?” Mon-El lifted his brows as Maggie blushed, glaring at Alex.

“I thought we promised to _never_ mention that again, Danvers. That’s a night I’d pretty much like to forget.” Alex just giggled at that, trying to hide it with her beer, as Mon-El found himself smiling too. It was almost… _refreshing_ to see the couple like this, together and content and… _happy._ It’d been too long since Mon-El last saw them like that. After… After Kara died, Alex had succumbed into a complete depression, shutting out everyone that tried to get close to her. That included Maggie as well. The woman tried to get close to Alex, tried to pull her out of her depression, and after weeks of hard work she did, but it took a toll on them. Their relationship had never really healed, or returned to the way it used to be.

At least Mon-El hadn’t ruined their relationship in this timeline, just like he did with everyone in the real one.

The thought caused his stomach to clench, and he quickly tried to shut it out. He took a big gulp from his club soda. He focused on Maggie instead.

“Are you talking about Delectamentum Rosea?” he asked, remembering the drink from Daxam. It used to be one of his favorites, at least before he met Kara. It lowered one’s sexual inhibitions, causing them to act… _recklessly_ in that area.

That was probably the understatement of the year.

He could imagine _why_ he’d—at least the frat-boy version of him in this timeline—would want to prepare that for Valentine’s day, though. It was custom to prepare that drink for a couple that wanted to have a special night on Daxam. And as one could guess, _special_ had a very different meaning there than it had on Earth.

“Yes! That was the name,” Alex exclaimed with a laugh, lacing her fingers through her girlfriend’s. “Is there a way for me to coax you into preparing that again for us?” Maggie’s eyes snapped up.

“ _No_ , there isn’t. Not a chance.” Mon-El couldn’t help the smile that spread on his face. “You’re not even mentioning it again, or I will find you and I will make sure you pay for it, Daxamite.” She pointed her finger at him with a hard look. He lifted his hands innocently.

“What were we talking about again? I forgot,” he joked, making Alex smile. She hid it behind her hand. Maggie kept her gaze on Mon-El for a couple of seconds more before leaning back, convinced. He was still smiling as he looked at them.

“You’re smiling,” Alex pointed out, not even a couple of seconds later. Frowning, Mon-El chuckled at that.

“Um, yeah. Is that… Is that wrong?” The agent shook her head immediately, all the joke dissipating from her eyes. Her finger traced the mouth of her beer bottle.

“No, no, of course not. It’s just… I haven’t seen you _truly_ smile in some time now.” She searched Mon-El’s face, the corner of her lips tipping up. “It’s good to see you happy again.” The Daxamite couldn’t help smiling at that, even though his chest constricted slightly. _Of course_ he was happy. _Of course_ he was smiling again. After… After a year of being without Kara, after a year of living in utter and continuous darkness, having her back was… It was like going out into the sun after living in a windowless room for years. It was feeling its warmth and light chase away the cold and loneliness. He couldn’t have imagined how _good_ it would feel, even just seeing her for an hour every day. Even if they weren’t together. Having her in his life in _any_ way was infinitely better than not having her at all.

Trying to chase away the thoughts that haunted him, trying not to think about the fact that he might lose all of that so quickly and suddenly, he straightened up. “I am,” he confessed, trying to ease the tension in his shoulders. “I mean, it’s been… It’s been some time since I last felt this happy.” He felt his fingers curling into fists, but he stopped himself. Lately it’d gotten easier not to do it. Especially… Especially when he was with Kara, he didn’t even _remember_ the pain on his palms. He didn’t need it.

“Could that be about that girl that you had _something like a date_ with?” Maggie’s eyes snapped at Mon-El with Alex’s question.

“Wait, you’re dating someone?” She then turned to her girlfriend. “He’s dating someone? As in, dating-dating? Not hooking up or having a one night stand?” Alex almost smiled triumphantly at that, taking a sip from her beer.

“Uh-huh,” she muttered, her eyes fixed on Mon-El. “Trust me, I was as shocked as you were. But, apparently, a girl finally managed to steal our frat boy’s heart.”

Mon-El tried not to grimace at that as he stared at his club soda. Not that Alex was wrong, Kara had his heart in her grasp ever since they met. It’d just been…a bit longer since that happened than Alex thought.

“We’re not dating, Alex,” Mon-El finally managed to say after finding his voice and lifted his eyes. “We’re just…friends.” _And it will stay that way._ Taking his relationship a step further with Kara… It would be his doom. He already doubted whether he would be able to leave her when the time came, but if they actually started a romantic relationship… It would be impossible, at least if he didn’t want to be completely hollowed out. It would hurt _too much._

“Yeah, I really doubt that,” Alex scoffed, her gaze suspicious. “Mon-El, I don’t know if you realize that, but you’d literally been _glowing_ for the last couple of days. There’s this light in your eyes that hasn’t been there for… _ever_. You can’t expect me to believe there’s nothing going on between this girl and you.” Alex grinned as she leaned forward, not giving Mon-El time to object. “So, when will I get to meet my future sister-in-law?” The Daxamite shot Alex a glare, opening his mouth to speak, but before he even got a word out his words were cut by a clutch that landed right next to his hand. Jumping slightly, he looked up, only to come face to face with a red-haired girl. There was a _very_ big—and at the same time _very_ fake—smile on her face.

“Hey, Mon-El,” she sang out, pointing at the chair next to him. “Can I sit here? I’m gonna sit here.” With that she plopped down without waiting for Mon-El’s answer. Her hand immediately found its way to his shoulder. “I’ve been looking for you for a couple of days now. You haven’t been around.” Her finger swiped over her collarbone…

At least before Mon-El swatted it away, pulling back. He saw Maggie and Alex sharing a gaze before turning to him, watching him as one would watch an exciting scene in a movie. All they lacked was popcorn.

“Yeah, I was busy,” he told the woman, who looked taken aback as Mon-El pushed his chair away from her. She lifted her brow as her smile faltered, yet she managed to pull herself together almost immediately. She scooted forward.

“But now you’re not?” she asked, reaching forward to straighten up Mon-El’s shirt. “Cause I’m free to—“

“No,” the Daxamite cut her almost immediately. He heard Maggie spurting out her beer, and Alex trying to contain her laugh. He didn’t turn to them, but he could see how wide their eyes were. He straightened up his shoulders. “Even if I was free tonight, which I’m not, you and I aren’t gonna happen. Ever.” He made sure his face looked as cold as possible as he stared down at the woman.

_“Oh my God,”_ Alex muttered under her breath as she ducked her chin, trying to hide her smile.

The woman’s hand froze in the air as she stared at Mon-El, her mouth clamped shut. She shook her head. “But I thought—“

“You thought wrong.” It took everything in him not to grimace at the woman. The thought of being with anyone other than Kara was enough to make him feel sick. Even if she hadn’t been alive in this timeline, even if she’d been gone, that was something he could never do. His mind went back to around two years ago, when he…when he proposed to Kara. _You’re the first person I ever fell in love with,_ he’d told her. _And I want you to be the last person that I love. It’s always been you for me, Kara Zor-El, and it’ll always be you._ What he said then was still true now, and it’d be true no matter how long he’d live. Kara was his always and forever. That would never change. And… And if it meant that he’d have to spend the rest of his life alone, and he’d have to die alone, it was still worth it. It would be impossible to try and replace Kara with anyone anyway, it would be impossible to fill the hole she left behind when she died.

The woman clenched her teeth as she squared her shoulder, annoyance and anger filling her eyes. “Fine,” she hissed as she snatched her clutch from the table. “Your loss.” Spinning around she flipped her hair over her shoulder and walked away. Mon-El didn’t even bother watching her as she left.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure I haven’t lost anything.” With that, without missing a beat, Alex and Maggie burst into a fit of laughter at the same time. The Daxamite looked up at them. “What?” It took Alex a couple of seconds to calm her laugh down enough to answer.

“You shot her down,” she stated, a huge grin plastered on her face. “You _actually_ shot her down.” Mon-El lifted his brow. _Kara is the only one for me, Alex._

“Is that something weird?” he asked almost nonchalantly. Maggie gaped at himi before nodding.

“Um, yeah? Mon-El, I wasn’t lying to you when I said you literally slept with half the women that came to this bar.” She pointed at the woman that just hit on him with her chin. “In fact, I’m pretty sure you’ve hooked up with her a couple of weeks ago.” Mon-El grimaced at that as he tried to get rid of the guilt that twisted his stomach. He reminded himself that the Mon-El Maggie was talking about wasn’t him, and it was a different version.

“And here I was thinking why she seemed so familiar,” Alex muttered under her breath, taking Mon-El out of his thoughts. There was a smile on her face as she leaned forward, narrowing her eyes at him. “Are you still gonna tell me there’s _nothing_ between you and your ‘just-friend’?” Mon-El rolled his eyes at that, getting ready to tell Alex the fact that he turned down a woman didn’t mean _anything_ , yet the words died on his tongue. He felt his shoulders slump as he stared at his hands.

“There can’t be anything,” he whispered, his voice cracking mid-sentence. He dropped his hands on his lap and clenched his fists, feeling the nails biting into his scars. He couldn’t uncurl his fingers as he continued. “She deserves much better than me.” Maggie and Alex looked taken aback as they straightened up, glancing at each other with nervous looks. Mon-El couldn’t look at them as he gulped, his chest constricting. “I’d only hurt her. I’d only… I’d only take away her happiness away.” _Again._

“Okay, wow, that got real serious real fast,” Maggie muttered under her breath. Alex shot her a glare as she stood up and pulled a chair next to Mon-El, putting her hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, Mon-El, look at me.” Mon-El kept his eyes on the table, trying to blink away his tears. He couldn’t face Alex, not when…not when he knew what he’d done to her in the real timeline. What he’d taken from her. He ruined her life, he killed the person she cared about the most in the world, how could he even _hope_ to look at her in the eye? She shouldn’t even be comforting him right now. “Was this why you were so devastated all those days ago? Because you thought you didn’t deserve this girl?” Mon-El took a deep breath, trying to steady his voice.

“You don’t know what happened between us,” he confessed, lifting his head. He fixed his eyes to a spot on the wall. _I already took away everything she had once, and I might have to do it again soon._

“What, did you cheat on her or something?” Alex asked with a teasing smile on her face. Mon-El couldn’t help it when his gaze snapped at her, his brows furrowing.

“What? _No_ , of course not. I’d never do that.” The words left his mouth without his intention. Alex blinked as her smile slipped off of her face. She shook her head.

“Sorry, I was just joking,” she apologized quickly before she looked up. Her eyes were filled with sympathy. “But Mon-El, have you asked _her_ what she wants?” Mon-El frowned with Alex’s words, struggling to find an answer for a second. He shook his head.

“She wouldn’t want me.” _If she knew what I’d caused, how I’d ended her life, she would leave without looking back._ And Mon-El knew that would be the smartest choice she could make. “She wouldn’t want someone like me.” Alex just smiled as she stroked Mon-El’s hair gently. There wasn’t an ounce of judgment on her face.

“Well, maybe. But you can never know without asking her, right?” She scooted forward to get closer to him, and put her hand on his knee. “Look, I’m saying this as someone who have been very lucky lately when it comes to romantic love, it isn’t about what you deserve or not.” She flashed a loving smile at Maggie before turning to Mon-El. “It’s about what you want. If this girl wants you, if she thinks she can be happy with you, then it means she’d already decided you were worthy of her, just as you decided she’s worthy of everything. And that’s all that matters.” She patted his back, a grin spreading on her face. “So just talk to her. Tell her how you feel. If you care about her as much as you seem like you do, I _seriously_ doubt she wouldn’t want to be with you.” Mon-El could only stare at her without saying anything, at least before Maggie intervened.

“She’s right, you know?” she said, leaning forward. “You might be a jerk sometimes, but you’re a caring and kind jerk. Any girl would be lucky to have you.” She winked at him with a grin before taking a sip from her beer. Mon-El took a deep breath, successfully managing to blink away his tears. _I was lucky to have her,_ he couldn’t help thinking at Maggie’s words. _She was the best thing that ever happened to me, and I…_

His thoughts were interrupted by the buzzing of his phone. Frowning he took it out, seeing that there was a text from J’onn.

_Need you in the DEO. ASAP._

The text felt like a cold shower as he straightened up, all of his thoughts forgotten. He quickly wiped away a tear that escaped his eyes as he looked at Alex.

“I’m sorry, I have to go. J’onn needs me at the DEO,” he announced as he stood up. Alex immediately went into work-mode.

“Does he say he needs us?” Mon-El shook his head, knowing that there was only one reason J’onn would want him to come as soon as possible. This was related to finding a way to fix the timeline.

“No, I don’t think so. But…” He cleared her throat, Alex’s words about love circling around in his head. It wasn’t the first time he heard them of course, Kara had told him all of that several times when he felt down, and there might be a time he believed them, but… But after everything that happened he always wondered what it would’ve been like if Kara had ended up with someone that actually deserved her. Someone as good, and selfless, and kind as her. Someone like…like James maybe. Would she be happier? Would she be alive?

The answer seeped into his mind without his intention. _Yes._

He tried to repress those thoughts as he looked at Alex and cleared his throat. “I’ll, uh, I’ll think about what you said. About her.” Alex smiled up at him from her seat.

“Good,” she said with a nod, resting her arm on the back of her chair. “And if you do end up getting together, my offer is still on the table. I still would very much like to meet my future sister-in-law.” Despite the situation Mon-El found himself smiling at that as he nodded.

“I’ll see about that,” he promised, even though he was pretty sure if that ended up happening, it would not only be the most awkward meeting ever, but either Alex or Kara would rip off his head afterwards. “Anyway,” he said as he pushed away those thoughts and looked at Alex and Maggie. “I’ll see you later.” He heard them saying goodbye as he made his way to the door, and as he stepped out into the warm National City air, it was Alex’s words that were circling around his head, and how much he wished that they were true.

_If this girl wants you, if she thinks she can be happy with you, then it means she’d already decided you were worthy of her_.

* * *

**_19:15_ **

“Hey, J’onn,” Mon-El greeted the Martian as he stepped into his office, not even bothering to knock the door. J’onn shifted his attention from his computer screen to Mon-El with an exasperated look on his face.

“Mon-El, how hard can it be to knock on the door before you enter?” he asked, making Mon-El smile as he made his way to the chair in front of J’onn’s table. “You know, at least to let me know you’re coming in? I don’t think it would take longer than a couple of seconds.”

“Sorry,” Mon-El apologized even though he didn’t mean it. “It won’t happen again.” From the look on J’onn’s face, it was pretty obvious he didn’t believe him. He flashed him a smile, resting his arm on the table. “So, you wanted to talk to me?” He waited for J’onn to answer, but the Martian only stared at him as silence stretched between them, the corner of his lips tipping up. Mon-El lifted his brows. “What?”

“You look better,” J’onn commented, his eyes searching the Daxamite’s face. “And I also see that your hands have been healing.” He pointed at his open palm on the table. Mon-El felt the need to turn away his hand for a second, not wanting to show his weakness, but then he stopped. What would it matter anyway? J’onn already knew everything he’d been through, every painful moment he’d experienced, every one of his actions that he very much would like to put behind. Ducking his chin he felt the smile on his face falter as he nodded.

“Yeah. I’m… I’m getting better. I’m trying.” He swallowed hard to get rid of the knot that’d been forming in his throat. He could feel J’onn’s eyes on him.

“So you’ve been seeing Kara,” the Martian stated almost matter-of-factly. Mon-El looked up, a denial forming on his tongue, but J’onn was faster than him. “Don’t try to deny it, Mon-El. I don’t need to read your mind to know that I’m right. It’s written all over your face.” The Daxamite felt his shoulders slump with that. He fixed his gaze on his hands.

“She’s… She’s good to me, J’onn. She does me good.”

“You don’t need to explain—“ J’onn started, seeing Mon-El struggle with his words, but Mon-El cut him. He shook his head.

“No, I do. I have to.” Taking a deep breath he forced the words out of his mouth, gripping the side of the table. “She keeps me sane. She… She keeps me going. It’d been… It’d been too long since I felt like this. Since I felt _motivated_ to do _anything_. But she…she makes me want to be the…the best version of myself. She makes me want to be good, to be a hero, and…and to help people. She makes me happy, she makes me want to _live_ , which is something… I’ve never really had that for a long time. I mean, nothing truly made me happy without her, but now…” He looked up at J’onn as he felt his face muscles tighten with desperation. “Now I am, and it was something I thought I could never have again. I’ve… I’ve missed that feeling.” Swallowing hard he frowned, trying to ignore the churning in his stomach. “I know I’ll have to leave her when we find a—a solution to the time travel problem, but…” There was no way he could stop the quivering in his voice, no matter how hard he tried. “But you were right. This is my last chance to see her, to be with her. And even though it’ll be gone… It’s infinitely better than not seeing her at all.” He quickly blinked when his eyes filled with tears, hoping with everything he had that his words were true. That… That when the time came, when he was forced to change the timeline, it wouldn’t completely destroy whatever part of him was left after Kara died.

He felt J’onn’s hands over his as he tried to take deep breaths to stop his tears. One still slipped down his cheek.

“I’m happy for you, Mon-El,” the Martian said, looking directly at Mon-El’s eyes. “It’s good to see you happy and healthy rather than like a ghost sulking around DEO.” The Daxamite frowned at that, straightening up.

“I wasn’t sulking,” he objected, making J’onn glare at him. He sighed and gave up. “Fine, I was. But you have to admit, my situation was far from ideal.” With a small chuckle J’onn nodded before pulling back.

“Anyway, that’s enough confessing. I didn’t just call you here just to ask about your feelings.” Mon-El nodded as he pressed his lips together to keep himself from smiling.

“It’s good to know that you care about me.” That earned another glare from J’onn. Mon-El raised his hands innocently, and he was pretty sure it would look more believable if it wasn’t for the smirk that was pulling his lips. J’onn sighed exasperatedly as he shook his head, turning to his computer screen.

“I was thinking,” he started, his posture and tone serious, “that if we want to travel between worlds, or travel in time, getting help from someone who knows how to do those would be a good idea.” Mon-El lifted his brows as he waited for J’onn to continue. The Martian turned the computer to him. “You said there were…doppelgängers of everyone in Earth-1 here. I think I found them. And with a bit of luck, one of them might have the same powers as your friends.” The Daxamite looked at the screen, and found himself face to face with photos of Barry, Cisco, Wally, and Jesse Quick. He lifted his brows as realization dawned on him.

“Three speedsters,” he muttered under his breath. “Who can time-travel.”

“And Cisco can open portals to other earths. He can help us travel to Earth-1 to your friends.” The Martian leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table and clasped his hands together. “If any of them have their powers, we can get their help to fix the timeline.” Mon-El could only stare at the screen, the pictures of his friends that he hadn’t seen for some time now, and he felt a pang of pain hit him in the chest, clawing his insides. Fear gripped his heart, so much so that he wasn’t even sure he was breathing. This was it. This was… This was what they’d been looking for. If J’onn was right and any of them had powers, and if they could convince him or her to help them, they’d be able to do the right thing. Mon-El would be able to go back in time to stop his mother, he’d be able to do the right thing, he’d be the hero Kara always believed he was…

And he’d lose her all over again.

He felt air leave his lungs, so much so that it was impossible to focus on anything else other than that thought. The moment Mon-El prevented his mother from changing the timeline, the original version of events would be set into motion. Kara would become Supergirl. She’d be the one finding his pod. They’d… They’d start dating, he’d refuse to go to Daxam with his parents, which would push his mother to invade Earth. She’d be defeated and sent to Phantom Zone. Years would pass, Kara and him would get closer, they’d get engaged, at least until…until their decision to get rid of Rhea would come back at them with the Dominators attacking Earth in her name. And in the attack Kara would be killed.

She’d be gone, she’d be _dead_ , and there would be nothing he could do to get her back. His heart constricted with the thought as he shut his eyes to stop his tears, feeling his nails bite into his palms. He couldn’t help himself as he tried to gather himself together. He couldn’t, he _shouldn’t_ break apart, not now. He had to get this thing done. He had to find Earth-38 version of his friends and ask for their help. _This is the right thing to do,_ he reminded himself. No matter how painful it might be, no matter how much it hurt and how he felt like the huge hole in his chest was growing with each second, he had to do it. It was what a hero would do. It was what _Kara_ would do.

Yet that was extremely hard to think, especially with pain gnawing at his heart and fear knotting his stomach. Fear of losing her. Fear of having to live without her. Fear of loneliness, of darkness, of agony, and all the days he’d spend with those around him. He wasn’t ready for it. He would _never_ be ready for it.

It took everything in him to open his eyes and look at J’onn. His vision was already blurred.

“I’ll go talk to them,” he whispered. He didn’t think he could talk louder without falling apart. “If you give me their addresses—“

“No,” J’onn disagreed immediately, shaking his head. Mon-El frowned as the Martian reached for his hand, uncurling his fingers. “I don’t want you involved in this more than you have to. I just called you here to tell you what I’m planning, but I don’t want you to be a part of this.” The Daxamite opened his mouth to say that he wanted to be a part of it, he had to be involved, but he couldn’t find his voice. He ducked his chin as shame churned in his stomach. He was supposed to be helping J’onn with this situation, he was supposed to be doing everything he could to fix the timeline, yet…yet he couldn’t. It was too painful for him, it hurt too much, and he was too weak.

“I should be doing this,” he managed to say finally. “This is my fight. It was my mother that messed up with time, and it’s me that remembers the whole thing. J’onn, it’s my duty—“

“It’s my duty too,” J’onn said softly, squeezing his hand. “Mon-El, you don’t have to go through with something that’s obviously hurting you when I can do it easily. I know you think that makes you weak, but it’s not true. Any of us would be afraid of losing something we cared about deeply, and your mother has put you in a position where you have to go through that a second time. In a situation like that anyone would hesitate, feel hurt, or be terrified, and let me tell you, not many people would go through with it. Even the fact that you’re willing to do the right thing, knowing what it will cost you, says volumes about the kind of person you are, and that person is not weak. He might be deeply scarred and broken in some places, but he’s still one of the strongest people I’ve met.” He flashed Mon-El a smile. “Don’t forget that.” The Daxamite felt gratitude filling his chest as he looked at the Martian and gulped, trying to gather up his courage. He nodded.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice laced with the weight of emotions twisting and turning inside him. “For… For all of this.”

“My pleasure.” J’onn turned the computer to himself and quickly noted down a few words before turning back to the Daxamite. “Now go home and rest. I’ll let you know what I find.” Mon-El stood up with those words, tucking his hands into his pockets. He wished J’onn good night before turning around to leave, without a sign of the lightness he’d been feeling for the last couple of days. Instead his shoulders were slumped all over again, and as much as he tried, he couldn’t stop the emptiness that had been spreading throughout his body.

* * *

**4 th of April, 2022**

**_12:37_ **

Switching the flowers from his right hand to his left Mon-El pressed the floor button in the elevator, pushing his glasses up his nose. The doors closed with a click and the elevator began moving up. Yet the Daxamite barely felt it because of the pounding of his heart, the ringing in his ears, and the fact that his eyes were focused on the flowers in his hands. For not the first time that day he wondered if it was a good idea to bring Kara flowers, especially since they weren’t dating. They were just friends.

But… But just friends could bring each other flowers too, right? He remembered Lena sending the Kryptonian an incredible amount of them for saving her life. Surely Kara wouldn’t think that he was…he was making a move on her, or the flowers meant something other than one friend trying to make another friend happy. That was his intention anyway, it wasn’t like _he_ wanted to be something more than just friends with Kara either. It would be one of the worst decisions he’d made in his life, and he’d made a lot of them. He just knew that Kara’s favorite flowers were lilies, and they always made her smile, so he bought them. That was it.

Right?

He tried not to think about any of that as the elevator stopped and the doors opened. He greeted the secretary sitting behind the table right across him with a small smile and a nod before making his way to Kara’s office. It wasn’t the office she used to have before she died; instead, she had the office of the editor-in-chief now, in which Mon-El used to see Snapper. Not that she didn’t deserve to be in there, she deserved it more than anyone in the world, but he had to admit that the first time he came into the CatCo building to meet with Kara he inadvertently made his way to her old office. At least until he heard her calling for him and turned around.

His breath got hitched in his throat when he saw Kara through the glass walls of her office. She was sitting on her chair with her shoulders slightly slumped forward, her eyes focused on the computer in front of her. He realized she was looking at the screen over her glasses, which must’ve slid down her nose, and Mon-El was sure that she wasn’t even aware of that. When she was focused on an article she never really noticed anything going on around her. He couldn’t help the smile that pulled his lips.

He gathered up his courage and straightened up his shoulders before stepping forward, knocking on her door softly. He quickly tucked his hand in his pocket afterwards to hide how much it was trembling from Kara. There was nothing he could do for his other hand, though, which was wrapped around the stems of the lilies, almost crushing them with super strength. He tried to loosen his grip as he saw Kara lift her eyes. She turned to the door, quickly adjusting her glasses.

A smile spread on her face the moment her gaze found Mon-El. A smile that doubled the rate of Mon-El’s already pounding heart and filled his insides with warmth.

“Come in,” she said as she squared her shoulders and leaned back, leaving her computer and whatever article she must be writing or reading aside.

Mon-El pushed open the door, a grin that mirrored Kara’s plastered on his face. “Hey.” He let the door close behind him and stood in front of Kara’s table. The flowers were pressed on his chest. Kara’s eyes flickered to them briefly as she opened her mouth, and she stopped for a second.

“Hey,” she said as she narrowed her eyes, looking at the flowers “What are the lilies for?” It took Mon-El a second to understand what she was talking about, and then his gaze fell onto the flowers. He could hear the stems squashing beneath his fingers, and he was pretty sure Kara could hear them too, as he cleared his throat.

“Um, these are…” he started, extending the flowers to her. He hoped Kara wouldn’t see how badly his hand was shaking. “These are for you.” The Kryptonian froze with his words as her gaze snapped up, surprise filling her eyes. She laughed nervously as she pulled her chair close to her table, pointing at herself. Was it just Mon-El’s wishful thinking, or was there a blush creeping up her cheeks?

He decided not to think about that and instead focused on her words. “F-for me?” Pressing his lips together Mon-El nodded, feeling his heart stutter.

“Yeah, uh. I knew lilies were your favorite, so…” He forced his brain to come up with something logical to say. “I just wanted to buy these for you. From one friend to, um, another, you know?” He wanted to smack himself upside down as he shut his eyes, feeling his cheeks burn. He shook his head. “Anyway, these are yours,” he said, finally managing to shut his mouth, as he opened his eyes. Kara had a small smile on her face as she watched him, her eyes filled with joy and happiness, before standing up. She took the flowers delicately from Mon-El’s hand.

“These are beautiful,” she commented, her finger trailing on one of the white petals. “How did you know lilies were my favorite flowers?” Mon-El opened his mouth before coming to a complete stop, his heart almost stopping. Why hadn’t he thought about that before? He was pretty sure Kara never mentioned her favorite flowers, so he shouldn’t have known it. But of course his heart had gotten the better of him, and instead of being sensible and not even bothering with flowers he’d spent the morning flying from one flower shop to another, trying to find the perfect lilies for her. Fixing his gaze on the table he scratched his cheek, trying to find a way out of it.

“I-I-I asked Eve!” he exclaimed finally, lifting his head. Kara’s brows arched up at that. “What your favorite flowers were. She told me. That was why… That was how I knew.” He truly hoped Eve was close enough to Kara to know that.

Kara blinked at first, seemingly not believing his words, before the corners of her lips tipped up. “You did?” she asked, and she almost— _almost_ —had a loving look on her face. Mon-El nodded, making a quick note in his mental notebook to talk to Eve about this, before quickly changing the subject.

“Anyway, I also brought you something else.” He took out the USB that he’d been carrying since the morning out of his pocket. “Remember that article you mentioned you were writing about the…the missing 17-year-old son of a high-class family?” Kara and he had talked about it over lunch the other day where Kara complained about the amount of missing information in the case. Apparently, two days ago the family had left their son alone in the house for a couple of hours, and when they came back he was nowhere to be seen. Even weirder was the fact that his room was completely emptied, including his bed, his closet, his clothes, his table, his posters, and all of his other belongings. It seemed like the guy hadn’t lived there at all. Of course, because of that the police had assumed that he’d just ran away and wanted to sever all ties with his family. But the parents weren’t convinced. Yet when Kara went to talk to them, trying to make the situation more public, they weren’t willing to give her anything.

“The house is _rigged_ with security cameras, Mike, every room except the bathrooms,” Kara had complained, rubbing her forehead. “Yet they weren’t willing to give me the footage, saying that the cameras weren’t working that day. But that wouldn’t make any sense, because I could hear them working when I went there, and if they keep them on when they’re in the house they’d definitely keep them on when they’re out. I think… I think something happened in the house that day, and they don’t want it to get out.” She looked so crushed after that, and frustrated that she didn’t have any evidence to build her story on, that Mon-El had to do something about it. So, well, he _might’ve_ asked Chris to hack into their security feed and pull up the footage from that day. He didn’t have time to watch all of them before uploading them into the USB he bought, yet he hoped there was something useful in there that Kara could use.

“What’s that?” Kara asked, grabbing the USB curiously. Mon-El cleared his throat, muttering under his breath as quietly as possible, so that no one besides Kara could hear it.

“The security footage from the Findlay house.” He looked up at the Kryptonian, only to see her eyes widen. “From 2nd of April.” He waited for her to answer for a couple of seconds, but the only thing Kara did was look at the USB, and then him, and then back at the USB with her mouth dropped open. Mon-El fidgeted nervously, wondering if it was the right choice or not.

“This is illegal,” Kara said, pointing at him with the USB. He took a relieved breath when she didn’t sound angry. “How did you even get it?”

“I asked Ch— I mean, my associate to pull it up for me.” He took a deep breath. “I know you can’t use it in your article, but it would give you a good starting point.” His eyes searched Kara’s. “Right?” Kara kept staring at the USB for a couple of seconds, as if trying to decide whether she should use it or not—Mon-El could see in her eyes that she wanted to—before chuckling and shaking her head. She walked around the table next to him, grabbing her purse along the way, and tapped his shoulder with the USB.

“This is a one time thing,” she almost ordered, looking up. There was a small smile on her face that softened her tone. At least slightly. “But thank you. Even though it wasn’t very heroic at all.” She pushed her glasses up her nose, her tone genuine. Mon-El found himself smiling back at her.

“It’s a one time thing,” he promised with a nod before changing the subject.

“Anyway, should we go?” Kara nodded before suddenly stopping, and reached for the flowers that she’d placed on the table with the shock of the USB.

“Yes, we should, right after I put these into water. “ She reached for the vase on her table that was filled with sunflowers, took them out, and placed the lilies inside. Mon-El couldn’t help it as his heart skipped a beat when she didn’t even hesitate doing that, as if the lilies were more precious than any other flower she had. She looked up with the sunflowers in her hand, only to see him staring at her. There were two pink dots on her cheeks as she cleared her throat. “They were, um, about to wilt anyway,” she tried to explain as she smoothed the leaves of sunflowers that looked nothing close to wilting. “I’ll just… I’ll give them to Eve.”

After Kara did that, and after Eve said hi to Mon-El with a huge grin on her face, they left the CatCo building. Today they decided to go to a café that, according to Kara, made killer waffles that Mon-El had to try. It was very close to CatCo so they opted to walk.

“I think Eve has a crush on you,” Kara pointed out not too long after they started walking. Mon-El couldn’t help chuckling at that, remembering his first—and last—day working as an intern at CatCo. He’d almost hooked up with her right then and there.

“I thought you said she had a crush on _Valor,”_ he said, whispering the last word, as he tucked his hands to his pockets. Kara shot him a glare.

“She might not know that Mike and Valor are the same person, but you do look alike, you know.” She pointed at his face. “Glasses aren’t the best disguise in the world.”

_Yeah, I’ve been telling you that for years, Kara._ The thought seeped into his mind without his intention. Trying to get rid of it he adjusted his glasses.

“I think it works. I mean, you didn’t figure out that I was Valor when you first met me, and I’d actually taken my glasses off.” That earned a scowl from Kara as she hit his arm. It only widened his smile. The Kryptonian sighed exasperatedly.

“Fine, okay, you’re right. As always.” Kara shook her head at that as they walked silently for a couple of seconds. But it wasn’t an awkward silence, or it wasn’t uncomfortable at all, at least for Mon-El. Having her by his side, even if they weren’t talking, was better than anything else in the world. He’d not forgotten that…that if J’onn’s plan worked this would all be over, but it was also hard to remember it when she was next to him, when she was smiling, playing with the curls of her hair, and looking at him with her bright blue eyes. She made him forget everything in a…in a way that sometimes scared Mon-El. When he was with her it was way too easy to pretend that everything was fine, that everything would be fine, even though it was…it was far from the truth.

“Mike?” Kara’s voice took him out of his thoughts as he turned to her. “Are you okay? You just paled a bit.” Worry had etched into her tone as she tilted her head to the side to get a better look at his face. Clearing his throat Mon-El nodded.

“Yeah, I was just… I was thinking about something.” Kara lifted her chin curiously at that, pushing her hair away from her shoulder.

“Can I ask what it was about?” _You,_ Mon-El couldn’t help thinking. _I was thinking about you, and the life we used to have together. I was thinking of how good it feels to be able to see you again. I was thinking about how happy you make me, and how much I missed that, and—_

He stopped that train of thought before it got too far and instead shrugged. “Nothing. Just… Just my old life, and the new one.” He glanced at Kara. “If you told me a couple of years ago, I would’ve never believed I’d want to even be in the same room as a Kryptonian, let alone calling one my friend.” The joke came easy to him, as they did many times before he and Kara teased themselves about their respective planets, jokingly of course. Maybe that was why Kara’s reaction wasn’t too unfamiliar to him as she lifted her brows and laughed.

“ _You_ wouldn’t want to be in the same room as a _Kryptonian_? Well, tell me about it.” She jutted her chin forward. “I would’ve never thought I’d call a Daxamite decent, let alone a hero.” Mon-El found himself laughing at the glint of amusement in her eyes. “But I guess we both were wrong, huh?”

_You have no idea._

“I guess,” he whispered, looking into Kara’s eyes. She smiled up at him before tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, and cleared her throat.

“Talking about old lives… I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” she started, chuckling nervously as she turned her eyes to the ground. “About Daxam. I mean, if that’s okay.” Mon-El felt his shoulders tighten with those words, and he found himself fisting his hands as he turned his eyes away. All he could do was swallow hard and nod before Kara stopped in front of the door of a café. “We’re here, by the way.” The Daxamite looked up at the name of the coffee shop…and a stream of memories hit him in the chest. _Silky & Smooth Coffee_. A.k.a. the café that Kara and he used to spend most of her lunch breaks in. The café that Kara sent him multiple snaps from, with the cones of ice cream balanced in her hand and a pout on her face. The café filled with so many beautiful and happy moments that only turned painful to remember after she was gone.

It took him a couple of seconds to recover, push away all the memories, and look down at Kara who was holding the door for him. He forced a smile.

“It looks nice,” he commented, wondering if Kara could hear the rustiness in his voice like he could. “Very…vibrant.” The café was small, nothing too fancy with only one floor, glass tables scattered around the room. The walls were white with splotches of pastel colors here and there, as well as some framed inspirational writing or abstract paintings. Besides Kara and him there were barely any people in it.

Just like it’d been all those years ago.

“Yeah, I know,” Kara said as she stepped next to him, letting the door close behind them. Her voice took him out of his thoughts. “Which is one reason I love this place. It always makes me smile.” And she did have a smile on her face as she looked around, at least until she turned to Mon-El and put her hand on his shoulder. She seemed so at ease doing it; he on the other hand… He just hoped Kara wasn’t listening to how fast his heart started beating at that little touch. “Take a seat, I’ll get us our waffles and coffee. And trust me when I say it, you’re gonna love them.”

Mon-El couldn’t even nod as Kara skipped to the counter, talking to the cashier. He watched her for one more second before turning around and making his way to the seat in the corner, right by the window. The place Kara and he always sat.

Taking his hands out of his pockets he looked at his palms, only to see that he’d managed to puncture some of the scars, and blood had even stained his nails. He quickly wiped them away as he shut his eyes. He needed to get a control of himself, ASAP, before this…this meeting with Kara went too far and he did something he regretted, or worse…

He did something that would make it impossible for him to leave her.

Kara came after about a minute, putting her purse on the table and sat across him. He couldn’t help lifting his head to look at her as he pulled his hands to his lap. “Two lattes and waffles ordered,” she announced, a proud smile on her face. He felt tension dissipating with her look.

It was scarily easy to be comfortable around her.

“With extra milk?” he asked, raising his brow.

“Uh-huh.”

“And extra sugar?”

“Yep. Just as you like it. Though I still don’t understand why you’d want extra milk in latte, but still…” She shrugged, watching Mon-El’s face intently as the corners of his lips tipped up. “But anyway, I was about to ask something. About Daxam. I mean, if I can of course, and you don’t have to answer it at all if you don’t want to, but I’ve told you about my childhood on Krypton so I thought—“

“You can ask anything,” Mon-El cut her babble, leaning forward. He made sure his face looked blank before continuing. “But there…there isn’t really anything interesting about my life on Daxam.” Kara shook her head at that.

“I’m sure that’s not true,” she said, disbelief coloring her tone. “I mean, by my calculation, you left Daxam when you were around…24, I think?” Mon-El nodded as Kara continued. “You must know a lot more about Daxam than I know about Krypton.” Her eyes looked curious as she looked up at him, as if she truly wanted to know all of that…and in a way it made sense. When Mon-El met Kara all those years ago, when she was Supergirl, she’d had aliens around her that she could talk with, that she could share her memories of Krypton and listen to their memories about their planets. In this life… She didn’t have any of that. He couldn’t help remembering what she almost said to him on that day on the roof. _I thought you were a Kryptonian, just like…just like me. A Kryptonian and…and a hero. I actually thought_ … He hadn’t really focused on those words then—granted, he had _other things_ to worry about—but now it all came together. Now he knew what she meant by that.

_I actually thought I didn’t have to be alone anymore._

Yet he also remembered how she’d reacted when she learned he was a Daxamite in the previous timeline, and especially when…when he was the prince. Granted, most of her anger was about him lying to her but still… Worry gnawed at his stomach as he looked up at her. There was a good chance that she’d walk away again when she found out he was the prince. There was a very good chance she’d think he was the “frat boy of the universe”. And he…he didn’t know if he could handle that. Because he wasn’t lying to J’onn when he said Kara kept him going. She did, and if he lost her now…

“I sometimes wish I didn’t know a lot about Daxam,” he started finally, turning his eyes to the table. “It wasn’t an ideal lifestyle.” Kara blinked with his answer, looking at him sympathetically.

“Was it true?” she asked, adjusting her glasses. “All the… All the stuff they said about Daxam? The drugs, the slavery, the…the royal family…” Mon-El was sure he visibly winced at her last words. He found himself laughing humorlessly, trying to speak over the clenching of his stomach.

“Pretty much yeah. The royal family did trade slaves. The King and Queen did keep everyone drunk so that there wouldn’t be opposition. And if there was, they swiftly got rid of it. Nobody really did anything to stop them.” _I didn’t do anything to stop them._

“Yeah, there was a lot of rumor going around in Krypton about the King and Queen and how terrible they were.” She pursed her lips distastefully at that. “And their son, the prince, he was rumored to be the worst of the worst. Frat boy of the universe. I can understand why it wasn’t pleasant for you.” She said it so nonchalantly, so matter-of-factly that Mon-El could only stare at her for a second, his heart being squeezed in his chest. He needed to remind himself that this Kara wasn’t his Kara, that she didn’t remember all the years they spent together, that she didn’t know he was the prince or how his life had truly been like on Daxam. She didn’t know.

“Well, it definitely wasn’t pleasant for our subjects,” he muttered dryly, forcing the words out. He couldn’t even look at Kara in the eye. Suddenly, with those words he was thrown back to five years ago when she first met his parents and found out about his identity. He had had an absolutely sick feeling clawing at his insides then, just as he was feeling now, accompanied by disgust and guilt. He shook his head as he kept going. “I didn’t have the worst of it as the prince.”

He had no idea how he managed to get all of that out.

Kara didn’t say anything for a couple of seconds, and Mon-El was feeling too sick and nervous to look up. At least that was until Kara chuckled. “You’re kidding,” she said, ducking her chin to look at Mon-El’s face. The Daxamite lifted his eyes to look at her, knowing that all of his feelings were written all over his face.

“I wish I was.” Kara gaped at him for another couple of seconds.

“You, the prince?” she asked finally, her voice hoarse and her back straight. Mon-El shook his head almost desperately.

“The _former_ prince,” he said, holding onto that thought. “I don’t… I don’t want to be that kind of a person anymore.” He felt his hands clenching into fists on his lap. “There’re a lot of things I did on Daxam that I regret now, that I wish I could take back. I was careless and…and ignorant, and I didn’t try to change a system that I knew was wrong. I knew people were hurting, I knew my parents were using them, and I didn’t do anything. I didn’t fight, because I knew I wouldn’t be able to do anything.” He could feel Kara’s frown directed at him as he continued, the words almost flowing out of his mouths. Yet he didn’t feel lighter, not one bit. Whoever said that telling a secret would take a weight off of your shoulders was obviously wrong.

“My parents had everything in their hands; the guards, the servants, the slaves, the citizens… They ruled them as they liked, and when there was something they didn’t like… They squashed it easily. They didn’t care about anyone’s opinions but themselves. Including mine.” He took a shaky breath before he continued. “They manipulated everyone into believing what they thought was true, and once you’re exposed to that every second of the day, you feel like you’re the one that’s wrong and not the others.” He didn’t look up at Kara, yet he could feel her eyes searching his face. She shook her head.

“But didn’t you at least try to change it? If it was that bad?” Mon-El tried shrugging nonchalantly at that.

“I tried, but when even your personal guards listen to your parents more than you, there really is nothing you can do to change anything. They didn’t even bother listening to me in most instances.” He felt his shoulders slump. “Maybe I should’ve tried harder. I should’ve stuck with what I believed was right and…and fought for it. At least then, even if I lost, I could’ve said that I tried. But I didn’t.” He looked at Kara, his gaze meeting with her intense blue one. “I only realized how wrong my actions were when I…” _When I met you._ “When I came to earth.”

Kara didn’t say anything for a while after he finished his words, her eyes fixed on a spot on the table, a frown permanently frozen on her face. With each passing second Mon-El grew more anxious, until he couldn’t take it anymore. Clearing his throat he straightened up. “I’d… I’d understand if you didn’t want to talk to me again, Kara.” The words felt like a stab in the heart.

Kara lifted her eyes with that, shaking her head. “No,” she whispered, stopping for a second as if she couldn’t gather her thoughts together. “No, I was just… It’s a lot to process.”

“To know that National City’s hero was once an asshole prince?” he suggested, chuckling dryly. The corner of Kara’s lips briefly tipped up before she shook her head again. She reached for Mon-El’s hand that was resting on the table and grabbed it softly.

“To realize how little I’d known about Daxam.” She squeezed his hand as she continued, not letting it go. “I never thought… I never thought things were that bad there. All I heard about it was from others. I’m sorry…” She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry I called you the frat boy of the universe.” This time a true smile was playing on her lips. Mon-El felt relief washing over him as he stared at Kara, almost not believing her words.

“So you’re not…you’re not angry with me?” he asked, fear tainting his voice. Pain filled Kara’s eyes as she shook her head again.

“No, Mon-El. Why would I be angry at you for something that you couldn’t have changed? Besides, as you said, you aren’t the person you’ve been on Daxam. You’ve changed, and you’re trying to make things better. I think… I think that counts for something.” She shrugged, her finger absentmindedly tracing the lines on the back of Mon-El’s hand. “Maybe that was why you were spared from Daxam’s destruction, you know? So that you have the chance to make up for your past mistakes.” Tears of relief and happiness filled Mon-El’s eyes as he smiled, his mind chanting over and over and over again that Kara accepted him, that she was okay with everything, and she didn’t mind it. He quickly blinked them away as Kara continued, pulling her hand back and straightening up. “And thank you for being honest with me. That… That mustn’t have been easy to say.” A laugh escaped Mon-El’s lips.

“Yeah,” he gasped, nodding. “You have no idea.” Kara chuckled at that as she pushed her hair away from her face. They stayed silent for a couple of seconds as the waitress placed their waffles and lattes in front of them. And the waffle… It looked just as Mon-El remembered from about a year ago, with chocolate sauce and strawberries and bananas and whipped cream and sprinkles. He shook away the painful thoughts as he glanced at Kara.

“This does look good,” he said, knowing he needed to pretend like it was the first time he was eating that. Kara nodded excitedly.

“It is. Now try it,” she urged him, watching him as he took his first bite. She waited for him to finish it. “What do you think?”

“Well,” he started, savoring the test of chocolate and waffle explosion in his mouth. “It might be the best waffle I’ve eaten on earth.” A smile spread on his lips when he remembered the first time Kara introduced him to waffle. It’d immediately become his favorite dessert…at least until she showed him cupcakes.

Kara grinned at that proudly. “See, I told you, didn’t I? This is literally the best waffle place throughout National City.” She popped a huge bite into her mouth right after saying that.

They ate silently for a couple of seconds—well, he ate when Kara mostly toyed with the fruits on the waffle—until Kara lifted her eyes again to look at him. “There was actually something else I wanted to ask you,” she confessed. Mon-El arched his brows.

“Uh-oh. Should I be scared?” That earned him a glare from Kara, which only worked to widen his smile. Sighing exasperatedly Kara continued.

“No, it’s just… You know, I told you that I think there was a reason you were spared from Daxam.” She clasped her hands in front of her, her voice quivering with her strained nerves. “So what if there was a reason I was spared from Krypton?”

Mon-El immediately saw where it was going even before Kara looked up at him. He lifted his brows as his heart stuttered. He waited for her to continue.

“And I was thinking that…that I wanna be a superhero.” Excitement filled her eyes at that. “Like you. I want to… I want to go out, to fight, to do something. I want to… I want to prove that I was spared for a reason.” She took a deep breath as she smiled at him. “And I thought… I thought that maybe you could help me with it? That you can…you can train me to be a superhero?” Mon-El’s heart was slamming against his ribs as he searched Kara’s eyes.

“Are you serious?” he asked, hoping he didn’t sound too hoarse. Kara nodded and bit her lip.

“Yeah, I am. I want to do this. Of course, it it’s… If it’s okay with you too.” Mon-El didn’t know what to say, at least not until he saw the hope in Kara’s eyes. And all those thoughts about the changed timeline and the fact that he’d have to leave all of this behind sooner rather than later disappeared from his mind. How could he turn Kara down when she looked so…so hopeful like that? How could he say no to her? Besides, it wasn’t surprising that she was asking for something like this now; she’d always liked being Supergirl and helping people. It made her happy. How could he deny her that?

He felt a smile spread on his face as he nodded, staring right into Kara’s eyes. “I’d like that, Kara,” he said, watching Kara’s eyes light up. “I’d like that very much.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, normally I hate explaining stuff about the plot and like to keep some things mysterious, letting the story speak for itself and let the readers decide how to feel about certain things, but there are a few things I need to clarify about Kara's reaction to Mon-El being the prince, since it is really different than it was in the show. I'd debated a lot about which way to go, but her being accepting of it felt more right than others, and besides it helped the story advance in the direction I wanted it to go without adding unnecessary drama or interfering with the main plot. 
> 
> I feel like, when Kara couldn't forgive Mon-El for being the prince on the show, there were certain things that factored into it: Not only Kara was in a relationship with him and Mon-El had been lying to her for a much longer time, but also they were different than in this story. Here Kara has been seeing Mon-El being a hero for years, protecting National City. She firmly believes that he's a hero, no matter where he comes from. Also, they haven't known each other for far too long, and technically he never lied about his identity; he never said it. Here she not only doesn't feel betrayed, and as bad as the prince had been in her eyes she has a lot of evidence to show that he'd changed. In addition to that, in the show, Kara was surrounded by people she could feel normal with, in the DEO, and she'd already been using her powers, so she felt relatively normal. Here, she doesn't have that. She doesn't have anyone she can be herself with except Mon-El, so she not only wants Mon-El around, but she also needs him to feel normal. She wants that normalcy, which makes it easier to forgive Mon-El for being the prince, because she doesn't want to lose that.
> 
> I hope that clarifies some stuff. And also, I hope that you liked the chapter!


	14. Grief

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, before I say anything, I want to apologize to all of you for this chapter. Truly, I'm sorry. I don't know where it came from. Okay, well, I kinda know it, since I was on a 10-hour flight, sleepy, groggy, and stressed out....but I think that is still no excuse lol. I really am sorry. Just wanted to you know that. Also, maybe you'd like to prepare your tissues. Just saying.
> 
> Okay, now that I've gotten that out of the way........I have a surprise for you at the end notes, which will hopefully lift your mood a bit after reading this :) 
> 
> But anyway, despite everything, hope you like this chapter :)

**5 th of April, 2021**

**_14:54_ **

Mon-El fumbled with the keys in his hand for a couple of seconds, trying to balance the bouquet of lilies and package of doughnuts he bought on one hand to open the door. Finally, after his third attempt he’d managed to find the right key.

“Kara!” he sang out as he pushed the door open, stepping inside. “I’m home.” His eyes didn’t even travel around the room before they found her in the kitchen, knowing where she would be. Kara looked up at him from the bowl in her hand and smiled. For a moment Mon-El got lost in her eyes. She looked so beautiful like that, with a white and yellow striped apron around her waist, her hair pulled into a messy bun, and a spot of what looked like flour on her cheek. A smile pulled his lips.

“Hey,” Kara said as she put the bowl aside, turning to him. “You’re early.” She closed the distance between them in two steps and reached over the kitchen island to plant a kiss on his lips. Mon-El nodded as he put the doughnut package on the island.

“Uh-huh. The early screening finished earlier than I thought, though I probably should’ve guessed it.” He looked down at Kara when he felt her hand over his. “Its name is early screening after all.” The Kryptonian chuckled at that as Mon-El lifted the lilies in his hand. “By the way, these are for you. And I also brought you doughnuts.” A loving look filled Kara’s eyes as she took the flowers from him, a look that made Mon-El’s heart flutter.

“These are beautiful,” she commented as she put them aside, the ring adorning her finger glinting in the sun for a moment. The Daxamite’s smile widened at the sight of it, his chest filling with a bubble of happiness. It’d been about seven months since they got engaged, yet every time he held her hand, every time his gaze fell over it, he couldn’t stop the butterflies fluttering in his stomach as he was reminded what it symbolized: A future, a _forever_ , with the love of his life. That was a feeling he would never get sick of. “Let me just put them into—“ Kara started, reaching for a vase, when Mon-El stopped him. Wrapping his fingers around her wrist, he pulled him close, his lips crashing into hers. She moaned slightly, not responding for a second, at least until she parted her lips and her hands cupped his cheeks.

“I couldn’t wait,” Mon-El admitted with a whisper, pulling back only slightly before kissing her again. Kara giggled into the kiss as her arms snaked around his neck. She pulled him around the island to the kitchen counter.

“Too impatient?” she mumbled, parting her lips from his only slightly to look into his eyes. Hers were flickering with amusement and love as she ran her fingers through his hair, a small smile on her face. Mon-El just chuckled and nodded as he rested his hands on her waist, lifting her up from the floor. He sat her down on the counter.

He dipped his head again, imprisoning her lips in another kiss, not that Kara seemed like she minded. Her fingers traveled over his chest and traced the lines of his back, pulling him close, closer, trying to minimize the distance between their bodies. Mon-El felt himself getting lost in the sensation as his one hand traveled up her back and into her hair, and he lightly bit her lower lip. His other hand stayed on her waist.

He should’ve felt her stop way earlier than he did. He should’ve felt her hands go limp on her back and fall to her sides. He should’ve felt that she wasn’t kissing him back anymore.

And he definitely should’ve felt the coldness in his hand, his fingers that rested on Kara’s side a couple of seconds ago wrapped around something else. Yet he didn’t notice any of that. His eyes were closed, the love of his life was in his arms, they were together, and he lost himself in her. He lost himself in the kiss.

At least until he felt the warmth on his lips that didn’t belong to Kara’s, and a metallic taste filled his mouth. His heart skipped a beat, as if knowing what was coming next, as he pulled back, confusion filling his mind.

That was before he saw what was in front of him, and he came to a complete stop.

Kara had a pained look on her face, her muscles pulled tight, her eyes glassy and…and emotionless. Green veins were pulsating on her cheeks and arms, even shining through the two layers of clothing and apron she was wearing, all coming from her stomach. Fear gripped his heart as he looked down, his brain still struggling to grasp the situation completely, and saw the knife in his hand. The kryptonite knife. It was lodged inside Kara’s stomach almost to the hilt, and the handle…

His fingers were wrapped around the handle.

Air left his lungs as he staggered back two steps, pulling out the knife in the process. His ear was pounding in his ears as he looked at the blade. The tip of it was stained with blood.

_Kara’s blood_.

The knife slipped from his loosened grip and fell to the ground, the clatter of it ringing in his ears.

The Kryptonian looked down at her wound, the wound that was caused by the kryptonite knife that just fell down from his hand…by _him_ …as she pressed her hands over it lightly. She lifted her eyes then, pain and betrayal shining in them, and Mon-El saw a drop of blood stain her lips and slide down her chin. He felt his heart plummet in his chest.

“You killed me,” she whispered, her voice colored with disbelief. And then, as if she was just holding on in order to say those words, her eyes rolled back and her body went limp.

_“No.”_ The words left his mouth in a whisper as he rushed forward, catching her before she fell down. He could feel his heart slamming against his ribs, the beats ringing in his ears. Tears welled up in his eyes, blurring his vision. He dug his fingers in Kara’s hair to hold her head up. The ground, the counter, the woman in his arms were shaking, so much so that it was impossible to focus on anything. Or else _he_ was shaking all over.

His eyes fell over Kara’s that were looking up at him. Not really looking, though. There wasn’t any emotion, anything in them. They looked like two dull stones. Lifeless. Blank. _Dead._

“Kara, _no_ ,” he croaked, his fingers curling around her golden curls. He tried to press his other hand on his wound, desperately trying to stop the bleeding. The blood seeped through her shirt and apron, rushing into his palm. No matter how much he pressed down his hand, no matter how much he tried to stop blood from rushing out it didn’t. It kept coming, it kept coming out fast, and there was nothing he could do about it. In a matter of seconds almost his whole hand was stained with blood.

Disgust twisted his stomach as he shook his head fervently. He tried to blink away his tears to focus on Kara, but it was impossible, it was impossible, it was _impossible_. No matter how many of those tears he got rid of, the new ones replaced them at a doubled rate. He tried to talk over his knotted throat, lifting his head to push Kara’s hair away.

He stopped when he saw the blood on his hand. The word came out unintelligibly from his mouth. “ _Please_.” He tore his eyes from his hand and turned to Kara, opting to hold her shoulder instead of staining her hair. “ _Please_ , Kara, look at me, _please_ ,” he pleaded, gripping the nape of her neck tightly, as if holding her tightly enough would somehow keep her in this world. He searched her face, he searched her eyes, waiting, waiting, waiting for a sign of life, anything that said she could hear him, that she was with him, the she would stay with him. He dropped his hand from his shoulder to her hand, lacing his fingers to hers.

“I’m here,” he whispered. “I’m here. I’m with you. I won’t… I won’t let anything happen to you. Just… Just please look at me, or…or squeeze my hand. Can you squeeze my hand? So that… So that I know you’re alive. Can you do that, babe?” He pulled her hand to his chest, pressing it over his pounding heart, trying to get as close to her as possible. Talking became harder and harder to do because of his quivering lips and knotted throat. He waited for an answer for a couple of seconds, each one that passed without a reaction from Kara feeling like another blow to his heart, until it became too much for him. His knees gave out and he fell to the ground right in front of the counter, Kara still in his arms. He wrapped his one arm around her shoulders tightly, pulling her close over his legs that were curled underneath him. He rested his back on the kitchen island.

“No, Kara…” The words were hoarse as he tried to talk over his tears. A silent sob shook his chest as he placed Kara’s head on his shoulder, resting his forehead against hers. His eyes shut close, yet he could still feel the tears streaming down his cheeks, burning trails behind them. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. It’s…” His breath got hitched in his throat as he pulled back. “It’s my fault. It’s all…my fault.” Realization hit him as he stared at the woman in his arms, seeing the bloodstained kryptonite knife from the corner of his eyes. He’d done this. He’d done this to her. He’d stabbed her. The words she’d uttered right before she collapsed rang in his ears. _You killed me. You killed me. You killed me._

“No, please,” he croaked, shaking his head fervently, trying to deny them. “Kara, please, don’t…don’t go because I…I messed up. Don’t die because of m-my mistake.” He cupped her cheek with trembling fingers, locking his gaze with her eyes. “I’m not—I’m not worthy of it. You deserve better. Please. _Please_.” He waited for a couple of seconds, watching her face. His vision blurred all over again. His voice sounded so small as he whispered again. _“Please.”_ Yet he knew it wouldn’t do anything anymore. It wouldn’t help. No amount of pleading, begging, wishing, hoping would bring her back. Because she was gone, she was _dead_ , and…and it was his fault. He’d done this.

He’d killed her.

* * *

**_15:02_ **

Mon-El jolted awake with a pounding heart, gasping for air. He could feel his heartbeats ringing in his ears, making him feel dizzy and making everything else seem hazy. There was an excruciating pain in his head, as if somebody was trying to split his brain into two pieces. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think, he couldn’t focus on anything other than…

_You killed me._

The words started circling around in his head almost immediately. He closed his eyes the moment that happened, trying to shut them out. Yet it still felt like a stab in the heart, it still felt like his heart was being ripped out of his chest, it still clawed at his insides and threatened to bleed him out.

_You killed me. You killed me. You killed me._

He wanted to scream, he wanted to drown out those words with it, yet nothing came out of his lips when he opened them. His mouth felt so, so dry, his throat felt so rusty as if he cried himself to sleep that he doubted he’d be able to say anything. He curled his fingers into a fist, crushing his pillow underneath his grip, and desperately tried to pull himself together, tried to shut out the painful thoughts, yet it was impossible, it was too hard. He couldn’t, he couldn’t, he couldn’t—

_Kara_.

Kara could help him hold himself together. Kara could chase away his thoughts. He’d be okay; as long as he had her he’d be okay. All he needed to do was hug her, pull her close, bury his nose to the crook of his neck, and remind himself that he hadn’t hurt her. That he could never hurt her, and he loved her. He loved her, he loved her, he loved her so much that it sometimes hurt _him_ , yet it was also all worth it. He’d take the hurt anytime as long as she was by his side.

He turned to her side of the bed, reaching with a shaky arm to embrace her and pull her close. To make sure that she was alive, that she was safe, and she was with him, and she would always be with him. He remembered the engagement ring on her finger, and what it meant. What it promised. A life, a future _together_. Kara wouldn’t leave her, knowing what she’d promised when she said yes and put it on. She always kept her—

His arm hugged air and instead of her body, it slammed against the side of his bed, so much so that he almost lost his balance and fell down. He quickly blinked his eyes open, feeling his heart stutter with fear. Kara wasn’t by his side. Not only she wasn’t there, but it was as if… It was as if the bed had gotten smaller. He only then realized it also didn’t smell like her either; it just felt…cold. Lifeless.

It took a couple of seconds for his vision to focus, and he found himself staring at the grey walls of DEO a couple of feet away from him instead of his and Kara’s bedside table and lamp. His whole body froze at the sight as his brain struggled to process why he wasn’t at home, yet it seemed like his body was faster, because his heart was already slamming against his ribs, his stomach twisted with fear, and his chest constricted from the weight that suddenly fell over it. It was almost hard to breathe, and that was when…

That was when all of it hit him. All of the memories of the previous couple of weeks flooded in with full force. And suddenly…suddenly everything fell into place, in the worst way possible. Everything—the nightmare, the fear and breathlessness he felt when he woke up, the churning in his stomach, why he hadn’t gone home the previous day, and all the days before—made sense now…and Mon-El wished it didn’t.

Tears welled up in his eyes all over again, and this time…this time it was impossible for him to pull himself together. This time he didn’t have anything to hold onto, he didn’t have anything to use as a glue to piece himself together. He felt himself shattering piece by piece, every piece that broke cutting his insides, the endless pain threatening to consume him. His heart felt like it was bleeding out, not being able to function properly anymore without…without _anything_ to work for. She was gone, _she was gone,_ what did it matter if Mon-El’s heart just stopped? What did it matter if his lungs felt too small to breathe? What did it matter if he couldn’t see anymore because of his tears, if their saltiness burned his cheeks, if his sobs damaged his vocal cords permanently? He’d already lost his love, his light, his…his _everything_. Would it matter if he lost his life too?

Deep down he knew the answer, no matter how much he tried to deny it, and it was almost scary. _Almost._ There was a part of him that…that was okay with that answer, that accepted it, that wanted the consequence of it to come sooner rather than later. That just wanted it all to _end._ He didn’t want to live another second in a world without Kara. He didn’t want to live in any life, any time, any version of events that didn’t have her in it. She’d been _everything_ that ever mattered to him, _everything_ that made life beautiful and worth living. She wasn’t just his fiancée, or his best friend, or life partner, or…or even his mate. She was his rock, his support, his happiness, smile, laugh, she was his…normal. He’d come to a point in the last couple of years that he _couldn’t_ imagine his life without her. He didn’t even remember a time that he was without her; he had _no idea_ how he lived all those years before he met her alone. Because it _was_ alone. It was _lonely,_ as if…as if somebody had pulled the floor from under his feat and he was falling, falling, falling into darkness without anyone next to him, and he didn’t know how to stop or how to soften his fall, he didn’t even have an idea about where he was falling into. It was terrifying, it was empty, but most of all…most of all it was absolutely, gut wrenchingly, destructively _excruciating._

He needed a drink. He needed a drink _badly_ , and he needed it _now_. It was too much. As if… As if the emotional pain wasn’t already killing him enough, physically he also felt horrible. His headache was severe enough to make him want to scream, and his stomach was churning with sickness from the incredible amount of alcohol he drank the other night. Was it one bottle? Two? More? He’d lost count after he finished the half of his first bottle, yet he kept going, he _had to_ keep going, because no matter how much he drank he seemed to be unable to forgot Kara, and the pain inside him never even eased one bit. So he drank more until he knew he shouldn’t feel anything, he drank twice the amount he used to drink on Daxam—which had been enough to shut down his thoughts and feelings when he was there—yet it was always there. The pain was always there, it was always threatening to consume him, and he didn’t know how to ease it, ignore it, or _deal_ with it other than drugging himself, which hadn’t been working at all. He only felt worse the next morning—or should he say afternoon?

Yet he _couldn’t stop_ , not when it offered him a semblance of relief from his emotional pain by forcing him to focus on the physical one. And that…that was infinitely better than the alternative. At least he didn’t feel like _dying_ then. At least that was something he could _solve._

He felt his stomach churn again, more forcefully this time, and it urged him to push himself off the bed. Even though he’d very much like it to stay there for the rest of his life. He kicked away the blanket that he’d wrapped around his shoulders to try and warm up—it didn’t work—and sat up. Even that small movement was enough to make him feel dizzy and send jolts of pain through his brain. He shut his eyes for a second, gripping the side of the bed to steady himself, before he forced himself to stand up and stumble into the bathroom. His insides twisted a third time, and he barely made it to the bathroom before he fell down on his knees and emptied everything in his stomach. At that point it was mostly liquid rather than anything substantial since he barely ate at all. He couldn’t even remember the last thing he put into his mouth, other than…other than alcohol.

He gripped the lid of the toilet as another wave of sickness hit him, and he threw up whatever was left in his stomach. He felt dizzy, as if his heart was pounding in his ears, and his throat and mouth burned with a sick, acidic feeling. He hated this side of drinking the most: What came afterwards. Not only it was exhausting and disgusting, but it also made him feel utterly _weak_ and _broken._ Because he _was_ broken. He was stuck in this…this circle of hell that consisted of pain, nightmares, and drinking, and he had _no idea_ how to get out of it. Well that wasn’t entirely true though, if he had to be honest. It wasn’t about _not knowing_ how to escape it, it was about _not wanting_ to escape. He didn’t know what would become of him if he stopped drinking, if he let all that pain consume him. And he was _terrified_ of it. He was _terrified_ to know exactly what kind of a person he’d become without Kara. He was _terrified_ of the thought of a lifetime, a _forever_ without her. Drinking and trying not to feel any of that was ultimately a better choice than letting all of it in.

Shutting his eyes he leaned his head forward, resting his forehead against the cool surface of the toilet. He could feel its lid getting crushed under his fingers, yet he didn’t care. He couldn’t care. Tears were burning his throat, his eyes, his mouth, making it impossible to think _anything_ but them. He pressed his lips together and tried to suppress a sob that threatened to escape his lips as he pushed himself off of the floor. His knees, his legs, his hands, his _whole body_ was shaking so badly that it was a miracle he was able to stand. He held onto the counter to support himself before he stepped in front of the sink, turning on the tap and splashing water on his face and mouth. He barely felt its icy coldness.

Blinking away the water that clung to his lashes he looked up, coming face to face with his reflection in the mirror. It probably shouldn’t surprise him at this point that he looked horrible, yet somehow he felt air getting hitched in his throat yet again. And he didn’t even look half as horrible as he felt. Sure, his hair was as messy as a bird’s nest, his cheeks were collapsed, there were huge purple rings under his eyes, and he was pretty sure he lost more than a couple of pounds of weight yet still… Still he was on earth with yellow sun that prevented him from completely destroying himself. He was pretty sure without it, say if he was on Daxam, he would’ve died by now, either from alcohol poisoning or hunger.

A huge part of him wished that could happen on earth too.

His knees finally gave out after a couple of seconds, and he found himself sitting on the floor, his back to the counter, his knees pulled close with his elbows resting over them. _Right on time_ , he couldn’t help thinking as he felt the sobs build up in his throat. It seemed like, in the last couple of days, his life had fallen into a routine: Drink himself to stupor each night until he fell asleep, have the same nightmare over and over again, wake up to a sick feeling in his stomach, throw up, and… And cry, until it was _physically_ impossible for him to cry. Which, considering his alien body and the yellow sun, took sometime. And then repeat the whole thing over and over and over again, every single day.

Mon-El’s eyes filled with tears as he stared at his trembling hands. He knew deep down they weren’t red, he knew he only dreamed of Kara’s blood gushing out of the knife wound and staining his hand, yet all he could see was that: Her blood on his hands. It was all over them, and between his nails, and dripping down his wrists. There was so much of it that he couldn’t even see his skin. Closing his eyes he clenched his fists and pressed them on his forehead, the tears already streaming down his cheeks. It didn’t take him long to collapse into sobs, each one of them wrecking his already weak body. He couldn’t stop them. No matter how much he tried he just _couldn’t._ It was too painful for him to handle, to even know how to begin handling it. He’d never experienced _anything_ like this before, not even when Daxam was destroyed, not when his mother killed his father, not when they were forced to send Rhea to something else. He hadn’t lost his happiness in those cases, he hadn’t lost his _entire_ life. His _everything._ And now…now he not only didn’t know how to survive through it, he…

He wasn’t sure if he _wanted_ to survive.

* * *

**_18:44_ **

Mon-El felt a splitting headache shoot through his mind as he dropped the alcohol bottle on the table, now about halfway empty. And if he wasn’t wrong…it hadn’t even been twenty minutes since he arrived and asked Aviya for two bottles of Zakkarian ale. The woman had been reluctant, giving him an extremely worried look before handing him what he wanted, at least after a warning: “Mon-El, what you’re doing… It isn’t healthy.” Mon-El had to clench his teeth as he looked up at her, not even having it in him to argue. His shoulders slumped.

“I know, Aviya,” he muttered, his voice hoarse and rusty but… _honest._ He wasn’t lying when he said that; he _knew_ drinking two bottles of Zakkarian ale, something that would definitely kill a human, was unhealthy. Yet the alternative…drowning himself in pain rather than in alcohol…was even worse than that. At least this way he lived on. At least this way he was physically alive. “I don’t have a choice.”

“That’s not true,” Aviya objected at that. “I may not know what you’re going through, Mon-El, but trying to drink away your problems isn’t a solution. It’s just avoidance.” She was holding the bottles in front of her tightly, too far away for Mon-El to rip them from her hands, as she leaned forward. Her eyes were filled with sympathy that the Daxamite was beginning to despise. “Don’t do this to yourself. You’re better than this.”

“Well, apparently I’m not!” Mon-El snapped, and it probably would’ve been more forceful if he didn’t sound like he had a sore throat. “ _She_ was. _She_ would be. I’m…not.” His voice trailed off at the end as desperation overcame him. He took a deep breath as he tried to shut out those thoughts, yet it was almost impossible to do that with a clear head—at least as clear as it could be with a pounding headache. He needed alcohol, and he needed it _badly._ “Please Aviya, I…I need it.” Aviya’s eyes traveled over Mon-El’s face and body, as if trying to decide if giving him alcohol would be a good idea, before she finally gave up. She pushed the Zakkarian ale bottles to in front of him.

“Were you just talking about Kara?” she asked softly before Mon-El could turn and walk away. The name made his steps halt, hitting him like a punch in the gut. “Because it felt like you were talking about Kara.” Shutting his eyes tightly, he tried to push back all of the painful memories that threatened the surface. Well, they weren’t _painful_ memories actually, most of them were _happy_ , and that was the problem. Remembering how _happy_ they were, how _happy_ he’d been with Kara, only to realize he’d never get that back hurt more than any bad memory could.

“Mon-El,” he heard Aviya speak when he stayed silent, and she put her hand on his arm. “Kara wouldn’t want you to do this to yourself. She loved you so much.” Mon-El ducked his chin with those words and looked at the bottles in his hands. All he could see was blood dripping all over them.

“That was because she didn’t know how weak I was,” he whispered, swallowing hard to get rid of the knot in his throat, unsuccessfully. “I doubt she’d love me now.” He was shaking all over as he pushed Aviya’s hand away and walked to his usual table, his eyes shining with unshed tears. He was gripping the bottles so tightly that it was a miracle they didn’t shatter into pieces in his hands.

He tried to blink away his tears when he sat down, trying to get rid of his haunting thoughts. _I doubt she’d love me now._ He didn’t even _think_ about it as he said those words—he didn’t have to think—yet only now he realized the true meaning behind them. If Kara could see him in this situation…drowning himself into alcohol to shut out the pain…avoiding all of his friends…dropping the cape and stopping going out into the city and helping people…she’d hate him. He’d become _exactly_ the kind of person she despised. He’d promised to never become that kind of a person again, not after he’d come to earth and met Kara. Not after she’d influenced him to be better. But now, the moment she was gone…he’d returned back to all of his old habits, just because he was _hurting too much._ It was nothing but an excuse. If Kara had been in a similar situation she would’ve never avoided her problems. She’d have fought them head on, because that…that was who she was. She was a fighter. He was…

He didn’t think he was _anything_ …anymore. He might’ve become someone with Kara’s influence, someone that he liked and she was proud of, yet all of that was gone without her.

He tried to push away those thoughts as she took another long sip from the alcohol bottle. Now there was only a quarter of it left. His eyes flickered to the clock.

36 minutes since he’d come to the bar. He grimaced. He was pretty sure sooner rather than later, two bottles wouldn’t be enough for him.

He wasn’t sure whether it was disgust or alcohol that churned his stomach.

Shutting his eyes for a second he tried to pull himself together, to stop his thoughts from jumping from one place to another. Yet alcohol had started to show its effects, and it was impossible—impossible—to try and focus on one thing. He rested his head on the mouth of the bottle, biting the inside of his cheek harshly to keep himself from crying.

It didn’t work.

He wondered, not for the first time, how it was possible to feel horrible the more he drank. When he was on Daxam alcohol _always_ managed to make him forget everything. It made it easier to smile, easier to have fun, easier to _not feel_. He would’ve blamed the yellow sun for the almost reversed effects of it on earth—it felt like his feelings got even more intense with alcohol—had it also been the same way when he first arrived here. He’d drunk then too, maybe not as much as now but still a lot, and it made him feel good. It made him forget.

So why couldn’t he do that now?

“Mike?” He was distracted from his thoughts with the familiar voice coming from next to him. He lifted his head, robotically, to look at the woman. Savanna Barret. His editor and boss at Gemm magazine. The person who’d been trying to reach him for the last two weeks—Mon-El didn’t even want to think about the number of emails, calls, and messages he ignored.

Savanna’s eyes widened the moment they met with Mon-El’s, her mouth dropping slightly open. She blinked several times before she continued. “Oh my God, you look horrible.” The Daxamite couldn’t decide if he should snort or laugh at that, and opted to do nothing as he looked back at his drinks. Savanna tentatively put her clutch on the table and sat across him. Her eyes were searching his face. A voice behind Mon-El’s head, a logical voice that somehow survived all that pain and alcohol, reminded him that he didn’t have his glasses on and he was in an alien bar, and Savanna could easily put two and two together and realize he was Valor, yet he didn’t care. He _couldn’t_ care. He wasn’t _Valor_ anymore anyway; he didn’t deserve that title.

Besides, he doubted he looked anything like a hero now.

“What happened to you?” Savanna asked, ducking her chin to look at his face. Mon-El clenched his teeth and curled his fingers into fists on the table, desperately needing another sip of Zakkarian ale. It took everything in him to keep still. The woman waited a couple of seconds for an answer before continuing. “I’ve been trying to reach you for two weeks. You haven’t been answering my calls.” There was another silence. “And you haven’t sent me any of your reviews. It was like you fell from the face of earth. I thought you died or something.” Mon-El winced at that as a pang of pain hit him in the chest. _It wasn’t me,_ he found himself thinking. _It was Kara that died. Not that there’s much difference._ “Mon-El? Aren’t you gonna say something?”

“I should be fired,” he whispered, the words leaving his mouth without his intention. He looked up at Savanna, feeling his desperation flickering in his eyes. “It’s been two weeks that I haven’t gone to work. I should be fired by now.” The woman looked taken aback with his words as she frowned. She shook her head.

“Yes, you should’ve been, but I spoke for you. I said you had an emergency situation and you’d start working as soon as it’s solved. But, um, the time you’re away will be reduced from your annual leave.” She looked uncomfortable saying that, at least until she saw the surprised look on Mon-El’s face. “I’m hoping you won’t let me down.” The Daxamite was speechless at first, not being able to find anything to say, before a question left his mouth.

“Why?” His voice had cracked yet he couldn’t even care. Savanna shook her head.

“I wasn’t about to lose my best employee over some missed days. Besides, you’ve never done anything like this before. I _knew_ something must’ve been wrong.” Savanna reached forward to grab his hand. “Something is wrong, Mike. It’s written all over your face. What happened?” Mon-El clenched his fists as he ducked his chin and pulled his hand back.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he hissed. Savanna knitted his brows.

“Mike, you don’t have to—“

“I said I don’t want to talk about it!” The words came out as a weak yell as he lifted his head to look at Savanna. The last thing he wanted to do was talk about Kara—if even hearing her name was enough to shatter his heart, he didn’t think he could handle talking about her. He shook his head as he grabbed his bottle and took a huge gulp from it. He could hear Savanna’s eyes watching him, wide and anxious. “You shouldn’t have come here, Savanna. You shouldn’t even know… How did you know I was here?” The woman hesitated to answer at first before her shoulders slumped. She pushed her hair back.

“I asked my friend to track your phone. I was _worried_ about you,” she tried to explain herself. “This isn’t… This isn’t you, Mike. I don’t know what happened to you, but this isn’t you.” She tried to find Mon-El’s eyes. “And you have to come to work sooner rather than later, I don’t think I’ll be able to hold off my boss for longer.” Mon-El clenched his teeth.

“Maybe you should fire me then,” he whispered, tightening his grip around the alcohol bottle. He loosened his grip when he heard it beginning to crack. Savanna seemed at a loss of words.

“You don’t mean that,” she whispered a couple of seconds later. Mon-El fixed his gaze on her.

“I do. I don’t want…” His breath got hitched in his throat, and he had to stop to pull himself together. “I don’t want to be a critic anymore.” And wasn’t it true. It hurt him to even think about watching anything without Kara, let alone reviewing it. One thing he loved the most about the TV shows and movies he reviewed was discussing them with Kara. She was the reason he fell in love with them. With the… With the fictional world of TV and movies. Now, without her… It only hurt to think about them. “And I… I want to resign, if you don’t fire me.” There was no point in trying to go on when there was nothing to go on for. He turned his eyes to his hands, waiting for Savanna’s answer. She didn’t say anything for a couple of seconds, until…until a ping came from her phone. She looked at it before looking back at Mon-El.

“I’m giving you two weeks, Mike,” she whispered as she stood up. “And then you’re fired. But… But please, at least try to get out of this…this hellhole you’re in. Whatever caused this, it isn’t worth destroying your life over it.” She put her hand on his arm, looking at him sympathetically. “And I’m saying that as a friend, not just as your boss.” With that she left, trying to avoid the gazes of aliens. Mon-El watched her walk out, her words ringing in his ears, and for a moment…

For a moment he wondered if he could do it. If he could try to get his life back on track. Getting his job would be the first step. Maybe… Maybe if he threw himself into his job he’d be able to ignore his pain. He’d be able to go on, or at least he’d be _trying_. That was what Kara would want from him. That was the person that she fell in love with: Someone who never gave up. She believed he was that person. She believed—

He shut his eyes as his chest constricted with pain, and finished his first bottle of Zakkarian ale. No, he couldn’t do it. It would be too painful to…to go on his life without her. Maybe it made him a coward. Maybe it made him selfish, yet…yet it didn’t matter. It hurt too much, and that was all he could think about.

Besides, he’d already failed Kara in the worst way possible: He’d caused her death. Would it really matter if he failed her again? That was all he seemed to be doing anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ..........So, hopefully it wasn't that bad? 
> 
> Anyway, back to the topic. Sooooo, today, officially, right before I posted this chapter.......I finished Second Chance. I wrote the last sentence, the last word, put a huge THE END at the end, and.... It's done. I honestly feel so emotional right now, and kind of feel like I've just fallen into emptiness, because I've invested so much time for this story (well, it ended up being over 187K, so that's no surprise there) that now I feel like I don't know what to do with my life. I mean, kind of. I have another Karamel multichapter fanfic that I really, REALLY wanna write, so I think I'm gonna start that, but still, this story has become a part of me, so it's gonna be a bit hard to let go, I guess. BUT there's a good news with that, because now this means I can post the chapters almost immediately after getting the edits, so if you see them being updated more quickly, that's the reason :) I have the edits of the next chapter too, so that should be up today or tomorrow at the latest ;)
> 
> Anyway, I just wanted to say that, and thank you for all of you to keep me motivated to write this story with your likes, comments, and enthusiasm. You truly are the best, and I LOVE YOU ALL. :)


	15. Dinner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so so sorry that this took too much time to update, but internship has been killing me for the last few days, and I had two fanfics I was trying to write, and this completely slipped my mind. I'M SO SORRY. I promise, the next chapter will be up sooner!
> 
> Anyway, I hope you like this :)

**5 th of April, 2022**

**_17:23_ **

Mon-El could see the fear and excitement shining in Kara’s eyes as she looked at the sky, her fingers playing with the hem of her tank top. Her hair was tied in a ponytail, the golden curls fluttering with the light breeze. The Daxamite couldn’t take his eyes off of her, the way the sunlight illuminated her hair and her eyes, the way they shone as if they contained all the light in the world, as bright and beautiful as he remembered. Even more than that. No memory could ever match up to how stunning Kara looked at that moment, even though she had minimal make up on and she was wearing black sports leggings and blue tank top over a red sports bra.

The color combination made Mon-El smile when he first saw her. Even without knowing anything about Supergirl, it was like that person was still inside her.

He pushed away his thoughts when Kara turned to him. She was biting her lower lip anxiously. “You know I’ve never flown a long distance before,” she said, swinging her ponytail over her right shoulder. “I mean, I flew short distances—well, you saw me fly a short distance since I literally landed behind you the day we met—but not…not miles.” She shook her head. “I don’t think I can do it.” Her voice shook with her nervousness, making the corners of Mon-El’s lips tip up. She reminded him the first time Kara was teaching him how to fly. He’d been terrified too. He was pretty sure the moment he managed to float in the air a couple of seconds he’d plunge to the ground headfirst. Well, he almost _had_ plunged headfirst to a building if Kara didn’t catch him, but that wasn’t important now. He shook his head.

“You can do it,” he reassured the Kryptonian, putting his hand on her shoulder and squeezing it, just as his Kara had done to him many times when he needed her strength. “I believe in you. Besides, it isn’t much different than flying a short distance.” He shrugged, pushing his cape away so that it didn’t get tangled to his legs. “You just need to keep it up for a couple of seconds more.” That earned him a scowl from Kara. Crossing her arms over her chest she looked up at him.

“Easy for _you_ to say. You’ve been doing that for _years._ ” Taking a deep breath she threw her hands into the air. “I’d probably just plunge headfirst to the ground before I can go a mile.” Mon-El laughed at her choice of words as he shook his head. Reaching forward he grabbed her chin lightly and made her turn to him.

“You won’t. And even if you do, I’ll be there to catch you. Okay? I won’t let you fall.” _I won’t let you fall._ With that he couldn’t stop the memories filling his mind—the memories from the night that she…she died. He couldn’t catch her on time then. He’d failed at protecting her. He’d _let_ her fall.

He quickly pushed away those thoughts when he felt his smile falter, and instead focused on Kara. Lately it’d gotten easier to do that—to keep the pain and depression at bay, to smile and be truly happy instead of pretending like it. And no matter how much he might want to deny it, he knew the reason for it, and she was standing right in front of him.

Kara searched Mon-El’s eyes after his words, as if trying to decide if he was telling the truth, before nodding. Her complete trust was written all over her face as she stepped away from him and fixed her gaze on a cloud. “I’ll be right behind you,” Mon-El let her know, watching her stretch her hands in front of her, before she held her breath.

“Here goes nothing,” she muttered under her breath, bend her knees, and pushed herself off of the roof, shooting straight up into the air. She didn’t even falter as she did that, flying in a blur of red and blue and black, almost reminding Mon-El of…

He followed Kara shortly after before losing her from his sight. He could hear her laughter about thirty feet in front of her. A smile pulled his lips at that as he flew forward and right next to her. Wind was whipping her hair behind, tangling the golden curls into nods, yet she didn’t seem to mind. A huge, bright grin was shining on her face as she looked over her shoulder at the Daxamite. Mon-El could hear her heart beat, rushing with excitement and adrenaline as he aligned himself right to her left. Their eyes met briefly, not even for a second, yet even just _that_ was enough to make his heart flutter. _Just like old times,_ he couldn’t help thinking. Kara and him flying together, next to each other, Kara smiling that bright smile of hers that would put the sunlight at shame… _Supergirl and Valor off to save the world._

Or in this case, off to the outskirts of National City for training, since DEO wasn’t an option and neither of their apartment was big enough—or strong enough—to accommodate their strength.

“The place is just ahead of us,” Mon-El announced not too long after, pointing at a valley right behind two mountains. “It’s just there. Follow me.” Kara nodded at that as the Daxamite rushed forward. He could hear her labored breath right behind him and feel her eyes on him before he landed to the ground softly. She appeared next to him in less than a second later, hitting the ground with a thump and stumbling forward a step. Yet that wasn’t enough to erase her grin from her face, even with her completely messed up hair, tank top that had trailed up to her waist, or sneakers that didn’t take the landing very well. She looked happy. Vibrant, energetic, and absolutely, completely _happy._ Mon-El didn’t think he’d seen her like this ever since he’d gotten to know her in this timeline.

“That. Was. _Amazing_ ,” she breathed with a laugh, pushing her hair away from her forehead. She looked back at National City that was now miles away. “Wow. I’d… I forgotten flying felt this…this _good_. It’s been a long time since I last did that.” Mon-El lifted his brows as if he was surprised, despite knowing exactly what she was talking about. Kara had talked about how Jeremiah and Eliza decided it would be best if she hid her powers, how one day she disobeyed their request and convinced Alex to fly with her, and afterwards someone came to their house. The seriousness on both Eliza and Jeremiah’s face and the way they looked at her as they sent her and Alex upstairs told Kara enough: That someone was there for her. _Because_ of her. She didn’t know what it was about then, yet it’d scared her enough to make her decide to hide her powers.

“Really?” he asked as he watched Kara staring off at the distance, her eyes cloudy with thoughts. She turned to him with his question and nodded, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.

“Yeah. My, uh, adoptive parents decided it would be the best for me. So that I could fit into this…world better, so that I could be normal.” She laughed nervously at that as she shook her head. “Not that you can ever feel normal when you have to watch your every action to make sure you don’t use too much strength and hurt anyone, or you can barely feel even the things that could break a human’s bones.” A blush crept up her cheeks as she fixed her gaze on the ground, her brows furrowed. As if she was ashamed of what she felt, even though she couldn’t help it. It wasn’t like she was choosing any of that stuff; she didn’t _have_ a choice. Mon-El knew exactly how it was like. He was lucky when he landed on Earth to have her, a tether to at least some sort of normalcy. He didn’t have to be careful around her, he could let go and just be himself, and even that little semblance of normalcy was enough to help him adjust to this planet. He’d only understood the severity of the situation when she was…when she was gone. Suddenly that normalcy, that tether was gone, and everything that seemed normal before started to feel wrong. Suddenly he couldn’t be himself _anywhere,_ he had to control his strength and watch himself every single second. Not only that, he also barely felt when people hugged him, patted his back, or held his hand. He barely felt their comfort and reassurance. It was nothing more than a wind to him. He didn’t use to mind it as much—he didn’t use to mind it _at all_ , because their _intention_ had been enough to make him feel those touches—yet then he hadn’t realized, through all of those, how much he relied on Kara’s touches. The fact that he could feel them made up for the lack of others. When that was ripped away from him…

“Yeah, I… I know how that feels like,” he confessed, ducking his chin to catch Kara’s eyes. His voice was more hoarse than he hoped it would be. The Kryptonian lifted her head at that, surprise flickering in her expression. He flashed her a smile. “You aren’t the only one in National City that has super strength.” He could almost point out the moment relief flooded over her as tension dissipated from her shoulders. A smile appeared on her lips.

“Yeah, right,” was the only thing she said, yet her gaze showed so much more. Realization that she wasn’t alone, that there was someone out there that understood what it felt like to…to be _her_. Mon-El doubted she’d had that in this life, that she was ever _allowed_ to have that.

At the very least he could offer her a semblance of that whatever time he had there.

“Forgot about that for a moment,” Kara continued, muttering under her breath before changing the subject. Excitement filled her eyes all over again. “Anyway, so… Where do we start?” Mon-El couldn’t help smiling at her enthusiasm as he crossed his arms over his chest, trying to take up a serious position. He straightened up his shoulders.

“What do you know about fighting?” he asked, not being able to keep his amusement out of his voice. He knew before Alex started training her, she had no idea about it, and he doubted it was different in this timeline. The way she furrowed her brows, a crinkle appearing between them, proved his point. One corner of his lips tipped up.

“I’ve watched some superhero movies,” she started, lifting her head. Mon-El arched his brows. “Like… Like that guy in an iron suit…that flies?”

“You mean Iron Man?” he suggested, not being able to contain his smile. Kara’s eyes lit up at that.

“Yes! Yes, that one and…and Captain America. I’ve watched them. Does that… Does that count?” Her face fell when she heard Mon-El’s laugh. “No?” The Daxamite shook his head.

“No. But that’s okay. That is why we’re here, right?” Kara nodded curtly at that.

“Right.”

“And I’m gonna help you,” he said, stepping next to her, bumping his shoulder to hers briefly. _Just like you’ve helped me,_ he couldn’t help thinking as she smiled up to him, _and turned me into someone that I’m proud of._ Rubbing the nape of his neck he continued. “I remember you mentioning that you have heat vision?”

“Yep,” Kara answered as she put her hands on her hips, straightening up. “Though I haven’t really used it for anything other than heating up take-out or Ms. Grant’s coffee in the morning.” She whirled her head around to face Mon-El. “Don’t tell my sister.” Chuckling at Kara’s expression, which probably supposed to seem threatening but looked cute and innocent, the Daxamite lifted his hands and shook his head.

“Okay, I won’t. If you manage to hit…” Squinting Mon-El looked around the plain until he spotted a cluster of small bushes. “Those. With your heat vision.” When he turned to the Kryptonian, he saw her gaping at the bushes, her mouth dropped open. She glanced at him.

“That’s at least 500 feet away,” she pointed out, her hands falling to her sides. Mon-El nodded.

“Uh-huh.”

“And you want me to _aim_ at it and hit it.”

“Uh-huh.” Kara’s eyes flickered back and forth between the bushes and Mon-El, as if trying to decide if he was serious, before sighing.

“It’s your fault if I open a huge hole in the ground,” she warned him before narrowing her eyes, trying to focus her heat vision as Mon-El had seen her do several times. Through the years her aim had become better and better, so much so that about a couple of months before the Daxamite invasion she could hit something half a mile away perfectly.

Kara’s eyes started shining in the familiar reddish glow, albeit somewhat duller, and Mon-El couldn’t help the awe that filled his chest. She never failed at impressing him, no matter which version of her he sa—

He jumped in his place when he saw a _very_ unfocused light beam pass right next to his arm. He acted on instinct and before his brain managed to process the situation he shot his hand forward, grabbing Kara’s arm as she was stumbling back, preventing her from falling down. An explosion came no more than a second later, making the Kryptonian wince in his arms. Mon-El looked down at her as he protectively tightened his grip around her waist, his eyes traveling on her fearfully, trying to check if she was okay, if anything had happened. The logical part of him knew that even her heat vision couldn’t hurt her, at least not permanently, yet he still couldn’t help his heart from skipping a beat. He _couldn’t_ let her get hurt. He couldn’t lose her—not again. And… And he couldn’t be the reason that she died, _again_. He’d just gotten her back. He’d just started living and breathing again without pain burning his insides. He’d started to enjoy life, something he never had after Kara was gone. He squeezed her shoulder.

“Are you okay? Did you get hurt?” he asked, not being able to keep his voice from quivering. Kara blinked several times as she looked up at him, her gaze unfocused at first. He could feel her hands on his chest as if she needed to hold onto something. Her eyes were so wide, so shocked, at least before she gulped. She nodded fervently, staring at her hands for a couple of seconds like she was trying to decide something, at least…at least before she pulled back. Mon-El had to loosen his grip and let her take a step back, even though it was the last thing he wanted to do. He… He liked having her in his arms. It meant she was there. She was alive. She was with him.

“Yeah, I…” she started, taking Mon-El out of his thoughts, as she turned to the bushes. A grimace appeared on her face. “I think so.” Clearing her throat she nervously pulled her tank top down. “I can’t say the same thing for, um, that…hole.” With that the Daxamite followed her eyes…only to see the huge hole Kara mentioned about 100 feet away from the bushes. A snort-laugh escaped from his lips, which earned him a glare from the Kryptonian. “I told you it would be your fault if I created a hole,” she reminded him in a small voice. He just nodded at that before sighing.

“We’ve got a lot of work to do.”

* * *

**_19:39_ **

Kara looked absolutely at the end of their two-hour long training. Most of her hair wasn’t even in her ponytail anymore; they were instead falling down in curls and sticking to her skin because of the sweat on her face. Her hands were dirty as a result of all the rocks they’d punched—which turned mostly to dust—and her clothes had spots of dirt here and there. Mon-El could even spot some on the side of her neck, right under her ear. Her cheeks were red, not from exhaustion but purely from the rush of the exercise.

She looked amazing.

And no, Mon-El was _not_ just saying that because he loved her and he was _supposed_ to think she looked beautiful in every situation. But no, he didn’t think she looked particularly beautiful, because she didn’t, according to beauty standards. One didn’t need to be beautiful to look amazing. It was… It was the glint of pure joy in her eyes, the smile permanently plastered on her lips, the small, excited jump in her steps that made her look incredible. It was her _happiness_ that illuminated everything around her, just like how the sun warmed earth with its rays of light. She didn’t need anything else to be amazing.

He felt his heart flutter when Kara lifted her head to look at him, her grin widening even more—Mon-El honestly thought it wasn’t possible. “Thank you for today,” she told him, honesty shining in her eyes. Clearing her throat she pushed away a few strands of her hair away from her forehead. “And for the training. It was… It was really fun, and I’ve… I haven’t really felt that powerful and—and like myself in a long time. And I know I’ve said this several times before like a…a broken record, but I can’t thank you enough for accepting to, uh, help me become a hero.” Mon-El felt the corners of his lips curl up as he shrugged.

“You were a good rookie,” he admitted, tucking his hands into his pockets. “At least better than I ever was to y— _my_ trainer. Maybe…” He cleared his throat before he continued. “Maybe it was meant to be. I mean, you were meant to be a hero.” _You are a hero, always, even if you aren’t Supergirl now._ Mon-El wasn’t even ashamed to admit he’d read most of what Kara had written in this life, and she was as much a hero behind her pen as she was in her cape. She’d spread the word about many things that he assumed wouldn’t be heard without her. It was no wonder she was such a good reporter.

Kara beamed at him with his words, her face lighting up. “You think?” she asked with a thin voice full of hope. Mon-El didn’t even hesitate as he nodded.

“I know it.” He stared at Kara for another moment, their gazes locked, before taking a deep breath and looking up at the apartment in front of him. He tried to ignore the irregular beating of his heart. “So… I guess this is where we say goodbye.” His eyes trained on Kara’s window, trying not to let disappointment get to him. Yet he still felt his shoulders slump slightly. He knew, technically, that just being able to _see_ Kara was a miracle and he should appreciate it without asking for more, yet a part of him, a part that was so blindly in love with Kara Zor-El, wanted to get into her house with her. Wanted to spend more time with her, just like…just like they used to. Wanted to be able to stay with her night and day, as it had been before, as it _should_ be.

He shut that part up quickly.

“Yeah, I guess,” Kara answered, biting her lip. Her eyes were trained on Mon-El, and— Was it just him, or was there disappointment in them too?

Before he could decide that, though, Kara froze with her mouth open and her eyes snapped at him, as if she _just_ remembered something. “Wait, no, not yet.” Mon-El frowned quizzically at her suddenly serious expression. “I need to show you something first.” Gesturing at him to follow her, she climbed the steps to her apartment building before he could do anything.

“Kara?” he could only ask, his heart skipping a beat. The Kryptonian turned around to look at him.

“Just… Just trust me with this, okay? It’s important. You… You _have to_ see this.” She waited in front of the door, looking at Mon-El and holding her breath, begging with her eyes for him to come. The Daxamite only hesitated for a second before following her. She sounded way too serious for this to be just about her…wanting to spend more time with him. Not that she’d want that, but—

“I wanted to tell you about it before,” Kara explained as she pushed open her door and rushed to the stairs, “but I… At first, I really didn’t know what to make of it, and I didn’t want to just call you and dump all of that on you, because…” She glanced over her shoulder at Mon-El. “Well, I thought you might be busy…superheroing. Anyway, and then I was gonna tell you today before the training, but then I got distracted with you—I mean, with the _training_ , and I forgot it. But…” She stopped in front of her door, almost breathless, and looked up at him. “You’ll see what I mean.”

Mon-El couldn’t do anything but follow her inside once she opened the door. “Kara, you’re worrying me,” he couldn’t help saying as he shut the door behind him. “You’re… Nothing happened to you, right?” His fear was audible in her voice as he watched her take out her laptop. He didn’t even know what to do if her answer was yes. If she was… If she was hurt or…

He stopped himself before his mind jumped to the worst conclusion. Fortunately, Kara answered not much later. “I’m fine, it…it isn’t about me.” Her fingers flew on the laptop as Mon-El approached her, relief washing over him. Gulping to get rid of the knot in his throat and reminding himself she was okay, he looked at the screen. “Remember that footage you gave me about the disappearance of Destin Findlay?” she asked, connecting the familiar USB to the computer. Mon-El frowned.

“Yeah?”

“I was going through it yesterday, and I…I found something. I found who took him.” Her finger hovered over the start button of the video as she glanced at the Daxamite. “You’re not gonna like this.” She started the video, and the entrance hall of the Findlay house popped up on the screen. Mon-El focused his gaze on it, feeling Kara’s tension next to him—he could feel the tension building up in his shoulders too—as he watched Destin appear on the screen. He was dressed in sports shorts and a white t-shirt, a basketball ball visible in his hand. He opened a closet to take his sneakers, and then his head snapped to the side, where Mon-El assumed was the door. He frowned, his lips moving—they couldn’t hear what he was saying since there was no sound—but it didn’t take long for his eyes to widen and for him to step back.

Afterwards, everything happened so fast that Mon-El, even with his superspeed, couldn’t follow. Destin dropped the sneakers and basketball to the ground and got ready to spin around, but before he could do anything someone else came into the view. The Daxamite was barely able to catch that she was a woman with pink hair before she opened her palm and pointed it at Destin, shooting some sort of light beam. And then Destin disappeared. Just like that. Poof. There was no trace of him left.

Mon-El’s eyes widened at that as he involuntarily turned to Kara, wanting to see her expression. “Kara, he—“ he started, but she stopped him.

“Wait, there is more.” With her words Mon-El looked back at the screen and saw the woman flick her wrist, gesturing at the two men that had appeared next to her to enter the house. Because of the black ski masks on all of their faces Mon-El couldn’t decide who—or maybe _what—_ they were. They disappeared from the screen, and then the scene changed to Destin’s bedroom. It was filled with everything that you’d expect to find in a teenager’s bedroom. The two men and the woman appeared in it in a matter of seconds. Again, all three of them opened their palms, the light beam appeared again, but this time it was all of Destin’s stuff that had disappeared. Just like Destin, it was as if they’d never existed.

The screen went black afterwards. Mon-El wasn’t even sure neither he nor Kara were breathing. He couldn’t say anything for a moment before turning to her, seeing questions in her eyes. “Have you seen anything like this before?” she asked, her voice slightly quivering with fear. The Daxamite shook his head.

“No, I… I’ve never encounter an alien— _anyone_ —that could do something like that. I… I don’t know.” His shoulders slumped as he shuddered with fear. Kara bit her lip and pulled her hair tie, letting her golden strands fall over her shoulders.

“Now I know why the Findlays didn’t want anyone to know about this,” she whispered. “They wouldn’t want to be associated with anything…alien. It could affect their business badly. But that…that doesn’t explain why those aliens did…whatever they did to Destin. As far as I could find, he wasn’t related to _anything_ extraterrestrial at all.” Mon-El took a deep breath, his mind jumping from one thought to another, as he tried to pull himself together. He had to be the levelheaded one here, the one that knew about alien threats. He took a deep breath.

“I-I’ll deal with this,” he promised Kara, trying to sound reassuring. “I’ll take it to my associate and see if there’s anything we could find. If that’s… If that’s okay. And maybe it would be better if you didn’t write an article about it.” Kara nodded as she ejected the USB and gave it to Mon-El. There was a crinkle between her eyes.

“But what if something like this happens again? We need to warn the people—“

“And we will,” Mon-El promised her, “once we know more about what’s going on. Going public with it would just alert those aliens that we know about them, and they might either run away or be more careful with their attacks. We might never be able to find them.” He pressed his lips together, waiting a couple of seconds to make a decision before he continued. “But if it happens again, you can write it. Okay?” Kara nodded, looking satisfied, and tried to smile at Mon-El. Still, worry was visible in her eyes.

“Thank you,” she whispered, obviously relieved, as if she wasn’t carrying the weight of what she’d seen in that footage alone anymore. “You’ll… You’ll tell me if you need my help, right?” This time the Daxamite didn’t even hesitate as he nodded. He knew he could trust Kara with anything; everything else could change but that never would.

“Yes, of course. And… Thank you for trusting me with this, Kara.” He hoped she could hear the gratitude in his voice, and how much her trust truly meant to him. It used to always motivate him to do his best, and that hadn’t changed after her death. It hadn’t changed now either.

Kara smiled genuinely at him. “I knew if there was anyone that could crack this, it would be you, _Valor,_ ” she teased him, earning a chuckle. Her face lit up at that. “And let me know what you find, if you can.” Mon-El nodded as he tucked his hands into his pockets.

“I promise.” He searched Kara’s eyes for a second, making sure she was okay and the whole Destin situation wasn’t weighing too much of her, before he continued. “I think I should… I should go now.” Kara’s eyes widened at that and she nodded, as if she just realized he had to go.

“Right, yeah,” she said as she walked to her door and opened it. “Thank you…again…for helping me. And the training. And… And I sound like a broken record again, right?” A corner of Mon-El’s lips tipped up at that.

“A little, but I don’t mind it. You can keep that up.” Kara shot him a joking glare and rolled her eyes with a sigh, yet amusement was also flickering in them. She shook her head.

“Get your butt out of here, you egoistical Daxamite. Honestly, why did I even expect a different answer?” Mon-El couldn’t help laughing at that as he stepped outside her house, glancing back at her.

“Good night to you too, Kara,” he said, ignoring her words. Kara flashed him a smile.

“Good night,” she muttered under her breath. He returned her smile before walking away, and he only heart the door shutting close when he turned around the corner and away from her eyesight.

* * *

**6 th of April, 2022**

**_09:44_ **

The whole DEO went silent the moment the footage ended and the screen in the main control area went black. Mon-El’s arms were crossed as he stood next to Chris’s table—that once used to belong to Winn—and leaned over it. His eyes traveled around the room to take in the shocked expression on the agents’ face.

“So…that happened,” he broke the silence when it got too uncomfortable. Chris’s eyes snapped at him.

“ _That_ was the footage you asked from me?” he asked, straightening up. “I thought you said this was for your friend.” Mon-El shot him a glare when Alex turned to him at that, her brows arching.

_“Friend?”_

“It was…” he tried to come up with an excuse, but there really was nothing he could do in a matter of seconds. He sighed. “She was investigating the—the disappearance of the guy, and she said she came up with nothing. I was just trying to help her,” he defended himself. “If I’d known _this_ was what happened I wouldn’t have given it to her.” With that he couldn’t help glancing at Alex, coming face to face with her “and-you-still-claim-you’re-just-friends” look. Yet it was J’onn that answered.

“Maybe it would be better if you inform us first before giving information to outsiders,” he said with a deadpanned tone, his face serious as always. But in his eyes Mon-El could see that he wasn’t worried, probably since he knew what was going on between him and Kara. In fact, this morning he’d just told him that he needed to tell Alex about her _sister_ wanting to be a superhero sooner rather than later.

And he was probably right.

And Mon-El probably shouldn’t be avoiding that.

But remembering Alex’s reaction when she first found out he told Kara he was an alien… He doubted she’d react differently now. She didn’t want the Kryptonian to be involved in _any_ of the alien business, and that was exactly what he was doing.

“Understood, boss,” he muttered under his breath to J’onn as he nodded, and then returned his attention to the screen. He walked forward. “But before all that, we need to figure out what this is. Because honestly, I…I haven’t seen _anything_ like it.” _In neither of the timelines I’ve been in._ “And we need to figure out a way to stop those aliens before they hurt someone else.” He clamped his mouth shut and clenched his teeth, remembering what Kara told him. _But what if something like this happens again? We need to warn the people_. She was right, as always. Protect civilians above all else. That had always been her—their—hero code. If someone got hurt by—by these aliens because they weren’t prepared for it…

Mon-El didn’t want that to happen. He needed to find them as soon as possible.

“Do you have any idea who, or what, they might be?” His eyes flickered to J’onn hopefully. The Martian would surely know more alien species than him. But he just shook his head.

“No, I’ve never encountered them before, or someone with their abilities. And we’ve seen some crazy stuff here on earth for the last couple of years. But someone who can…”

“Make something disappear like it didn’t exist?” Dana suggested, her one hand protectively covering her belly. “Yeah, you’re not alone in that.”

“But where did they go?” Alex questioned as she pushed her hair away from her face. “I mean, they couldn’t have just _disappeared,_ right? That’s not possible. The aliens _must’ve_ sent them somewhere.”

“That’s true,” Chris chimed in almost too excitedly, turning his chair around to face the screen. “It’s the first rule of thermodynamics. Energy can be transformed, but nor created nor destroyed.” There was a grin on his face as he said that, making Mon-El’s lips curl in a sad smile. He couldn’t help remembering Winn; he was usually the one that came up with the explanations of everything before. A part of the Daxamite wished he was there instead of Chris, that he somehow knew Winn in this timeline too.

He was so focused on Kara that he didn’t realize how much he missed his best friend. Not that he could do anything about it.

Shaking his head he focused on Chris’s words and nodded. “Yeah, according to…whatever he said, they should be somewhere now.” He turned to J’onn and Alex. “If we manage to find where they ended up in, we might find Destin too.” J’onn nodded at that and turned to Alex.

“Take a team of DEO scientists and go there for analysis. And if you find anything, let me know.” Alex nodded curtly at her boss’ words, all business, before she whirled around and walked away to do as he asked. J’onn then turned to Chris. “Analyze every second of that video and see if we missed anything. If an angle provides a better look at the aliens we might be able to ID and stop them.”

“On it, sir,” Chris chirped as he swirled his chair around and pulled himself close to the computer. J’onn then turned to Mon-El, his eyes softening slightly.

“You can take the day off, I don’t think we’ll need you for this for now.” His gaze traveled on the Daxamite, as if checking whether he was okay or not. Mon-El nodded at him before he stopped.

“J’onn, can we talk?” he asked, stepping forward. He couldn’t stop his voice from quivering as his throat knotted. “About… About what you were doing for the, uh, for the past two days?” He had to force the words out. He could feel his fingers curling into a fist and his fingers biting into his palm, yet he couldn’t help himself. He’d tried to gather up his strength since he brought the footage to DEO to…to ask that question to J’onn, to find out whether he found anything about the team Flash members, but it was hard. A part of him didn’t even want to know the answer. Didn’t want to hear that…that Barry had his powers, or Cisco agreed to open a portal to Earth-1. He didn’t want to hear that…

That he’d have to lose Kara all over again.

He’d be lying if he said he was ready for that. He’d be kidding himself if he thought that he’d _ever_ be ready for that. The thought of—of never seeing Kara again, of losing her truly _forever_ this time was enough to make him feel sick to the gut. It almost rendered him breathless.

It rendered him breathless.

But that didn’t change the fact that…that it was the right thing to do. That didn’t change that he was supposed to do it, and that was what…that was what _his_ Kara would want him to do. As hard as it might be, as painful as it might seem, it didn’t change anything.

He hoped he’d believe those words if he repeated them to himself enough times.

J’onn’s eyes filled with understanding with Mon-El’s question. “Right. Why don’t you come to my office?” he said nonchalantly, as if they were discussing whether they should choose pineapple or pepperoni pizza and not resetting the timeline. The Daxamite gulped as he nodded and followed the Martian. He closed the door behind him, blocking the sound.

Mon-El could only find his voice a couple of seconds later, his shoulders so tight and tense that he was afraid he’d snap. “Did you…” he started with a hoarse voice, feeling his stomach coil, but had to stop to clear his throat. “Did you find anything about…about…?” He couldn’t even voice their names. J’onn looked at him sympathetically and interjected before he fell apart, understanding his situation. He shook his head as he took his seat.

“I managed to find Wally, Cisco, and Barry,” he said, watching the Daxamite. “So far nothing. They don’t have their powers. But… Well, Barry is proving to be a bit harder. I have two possible locations for him; I’ll check them out today.” His gaze traveled on Mon-El’s face. “Are you sure you want to do this?” Mon-El knew it was an innocent question, that J’onn didn’t mean he was too weak to do the right thing but was merely worried about him, yet he couldn’t help wincing. He nodded, tucking his hands into his pockets as his nails started puncturing his palm.

“Yeah, I… It’s the right thing to do.” He swallowed hard. “It’s… It’s what Kara would want me to do.” His voice came out only as a whisper. J’onn smiled sadly at him as he shook his head.

“She would be proud of you,” he said, his voice filled with honesty. Mon-El could only force a smile as he thanked J’onn once again and left his office. He wished he was right, that…that Kara would truly be proud of him for doing the right thing. For being a hero. But there was another part of him that…that didn’t care about that, not much at least, not when the alternative was having her by his side. And no matter how much he tried, he couldn’t shut up that part’s voice.

_I don’t want her to be proud of me, I want her to be with me._

* * *

**_19:13_ **

Mon-El couldn’t take his eyes off of Kara. Whenever he turned them away briefly, whenever he tried to focus on something else, he found his gaze flickering back to her. But it wasn’t _entirely_ his fault; how could he have guessed that she’d dress in an absolutely stunning black dress that…that showcased her body in the best way and highlighted her beauty? How could he have known that her hair would shine so bright, almost blond, over the dark background? How could he have imagined how _beautiful_ she would look with that…that red lipstick of hers, and that smile that was plastered on her face?

How could he have seen that this…dinner would turn from being only a friendly get together to feeling like a date? Because it did start feeling like a date, especially after Mon-El took her from CatCo to her house so that she could change her clothes.

He didn’t know she would wear something like that.

He didn’t know her smile would affect him the way it did.

He didn’t know that staying away from her would get harder and harder every single day.

And the afternoon had started pretty normally. Well, not _entirely_ normally, but at least nothing got too serious then. He’d gone to CatCo to pick her up for their dinner plans with carnations in his hand. She’d absolutely loved them and put them in a vase right next to the lilies that adorned her table.

Okay, _maybe_ bringing her another bouquet of flowers wasn’t the best idea, but the pink of them reminded him the color of her cheeks, and he _had to_ get them. Besides, it made Kara smile, which was a win on its own.

What wasn’t so normal about the afternoon was Winn literally barging into Kara’s office before they could get out of there, a tablet in his hand. Calling the encounter awkward would be a huge underestimation. It still made Mon-El wince to remember his expression when Winn caught them staring at each other, with the carnations in Kara’s hands and a smile on her face. The Kryptonian had been oblivious of it all, just greeting her best friend with a grin, yet Mon-El could see the way his shoulders slumped as his gaze traveled back and forth between the Daxamite and Kara. He’d left without even muttering a word, leaving her confused.

Mon-El didn’t expect seeing his best friend to hurt him as much as it did. Granted, it wasn’t the best of situations, yet…yet seeing the pain and almost betrayal in Winn’s eyes, seeing him watching the person he loved slip away from his fingers… It sickened Mon-El, especially since he knew how it felt like. Kara had turned him down initially too.

“You’re staring at me.” Kara’s voice took Mon-El out of his thoughts as he blinked and focused on her. There was a pinkness on her cheeks as she searched his face. “Like what you see?” Mon-El couldn’t help laughing as he tucked his hands in his pockets, turning his eyes forward. They were almost in front of Kara’s apartment building he realized. He had to park his car a block away since they couldn’t find a closer spot, and he decided to walk her home even though he knew she could’ve easily done it herself. He didn’t want the night to end just yet, especially after the best dinner he’d had in a long time. Though if someone asked him he would barely be able to describe the taste of the food. It was _Kara_ that made it all incredible.

“I said that you looked beautiful,” Mon-El answered Kara’s question with a shrug. Kara nodded.

“That’s true, you did.” She smoothed her hand over her dress nervously, her clutch dangling from her hand. “But I bet you say that to every woman you meet.” She turned her gaze to her feet with that. Mon-El couldn’t help the words from leaving his mouth as he ducked his chin, trying to look at her face.

“Who said I was meeting with other women?” he suggested, arching his brow. Kara’s steps halted at that, and her eyes snapped up at him, making Mon-El realize what he said. He quickly tried to fix the situation. “I mean, with all the superheroing, and my day job, and training my new rookie,” he flashed her a smile at that, “I barely have time to do anything else.” Kara chuckled as she shook her head and sighed.

“That’s…good to know, I guess.” She glanced at him. “But if you blame _me_ for not getting laid, let me remind you, _you_ were the one that accepted to train me. I didn’t force you.” Mon-El shook his head at that, looking at her genuinely.

“Don’t worry about that, I’m not blaming you. It’s actually fun watching you open holes in the desert.” That earned a glare from Kara as she elbowed him.

“Hey!” she complained. “I thought we agreed not to talk about that.” Mon-El couldn’t stop his laugh, which made her elbow him again. Yet there was amusement in her eyes too. “Besides, you were the one that held me as if I was some sort of a Disney princess in danger, your eyes all wide and fearful.”

It was Mon-El’s time to complain then. “I did _not_ do that,” he denied, looking at her incredulously. Kara just shook her head with a laugh.

“Oh, yeah, you did.” She pursed her lips, staring at him. _“Are you okay? Did you get hurt?”_ she recited his words with a thin voice. Mon-El shot her a glare when she started giggling, yet in a matter of seconds he found himself joining her. It felt like it was _impossible_ not to laugh in her presence.

“I don’t sound like that,” he argued as he stopped in front of her door. “I know my voice isn’t that deep, but it isn’t _that_ thin either.” Kara stepped in front of him with a smirk on her lips, facing him.

“Yeah, I might’ve exaggerated it a little bit.” She played with the zipper on her clutch as she ducked her chin, a nervous laugh escaping her lips. “Also, tonight was amazing,” she confessed, looking back up at him. “It was the best dinner I’ve had in years.” Mon-El nodded.

“Yeah, mine too.” _The best one since you died._ “The steak was really tasty, right?” he suggested with a teasing smile. The corners of Kara’s lips tipped up as she nodded.

“Yeah, of course, the steak,” she muttered under her breath. “Anyway, I just… I wanted you to know that.” Her eyes searched his face and Mon-El wondered if she could hear the pounding of his heart. His eyes flickered to her lips briefly, and he had to stop himself and clear his throat to keep himself from doing something stupid. He opened his mouth to say goodbye.

Yet before…before he could do that, before he could do _anything_ , Kara stepped closer, her eyes trained on his. He felt his body freeze when he realized what she was doing. She was leaning in. To kiss him. She was reaching up slowly to _kiss_ him. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t step away, or even step closer. He couldn’t do _anything_ other than stand there. He could see questions in her eyes, as if she was asking whether she could kiss him. As if she was looking for a confirmation that said that he… _wanted_ it. And he wanted it, he wanted it _desperately_. That thought hit him in the chest so unexpectedly that it took her breath away. He wanted to lean down and kiss her. He wanted to close the distance between them and press his lips on hers. He’d missed it. He’d missed it _so badly._ He missed the taste of her lips, the feeling of belonging it gave him, the feeling of… _home_. Nothing— _nothing_ —truly felt like that.

_And it’ll all be taken away sooner rather than later,_ his mind reminded him. _Are you ready to lose it all again?_

He staggered back a step as that thought seeped into his mind. His heart was stuttering so irregularly and erratically that he could feel it in his throat. Fear had its claws in his chest, threatening to bleed him, to kill him. He couldn’t kiss her. He couldn’t kiss her and lose that all over again. Changing the timeline…leaving her…he already knew it would be destructive, even without…without remembering what it was like to have a relationship with her. If that also happened…

It would kill him. It would destroy him so badly that he would never be able to survive it. He couldn’t go through that, he couldn’t go through that kind of a pain _again_.

There were barely inches between him and Kara when he pulled back, so much so that she stumbled forward a step, surprise flickering in her face. Mon-El gulped desperately to get rid of the knot in his throat. It didn’t work.

“I’m sorry,” he croaked and shook his head, his voice barely a whisper. “I’m sorry, I… I can’t. _I can’t do it_.” He stared at Kara’s face for only a second longer, enough to see hurt filling her expression, before he spun around and almost _ran_ away with his whole body shaking and his breath getting hitched in his throat. He couldn’t even feel the stinging pain in his palms, yet he could feel the blood on them, staining his fingertips with red.


	16. Soulmates

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys :)
> 
> I'm so so sorry that I didn't update this sooner, I really was planning to do it yesterday but, well, a spy AU that just popped into my head got in the way, and I just HAD TO write it lol :) But anyway, I really hope that you like this chapter, because honestly it's one of my favorites in the whole story :)
> 
> Enjoy!

**6 th of April, 2022**

**_22:45_ **

Mon-El couldn’t stop his heart from slamming against his ribs as he paced back and forth in his living room. He’d been walking too fast for too long that he was pretty sure there were skid marks on the floor and carpet underneath, yet he couldn’t stop himself. He couldn’t stay still for more than a second without feeling like—like someone was ripping out his heart, like he was stabbed in the chest, like air was getting pulled out of his lungs. He’d almost kissed Kara. _He’d almost kissed Kara._ He almost… He almost did the one thing he promised himself he’d never do. He could be friends with her, he could see her from time to time—more like everyday—but…but having a relationship? That was out of question. That was… That couldn’t happen. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t go through it and make it out alive. He couldn’t—

He wanted it.

His eyes flew open as the realization dawned on him, and his steps halted immediately. He felt his breath getting hitched in his throat, his nails wounding his palms all over again. He doubted he’d unclenched his fists once he opened the front door and put his keys away. He could feel the blood, he knew it was wrong, and he knew he shouldn’t do it, yet he couldn’t stop himself. How could he when…when…

He wanted a relationship with Kara. He wanted it so _much,_ so _helplessly_ that it’d even surprised him. He was… He’d been convincing himself, for the last couple of days, that it was enough to be friends with her, to…to just see her without being with her. That was the point, right? That was what J’onn told him? See her before she’s gone again, forever. He didn’t mention a relationship, and Mon-El should definitely not have considered a relationship with Kara. But now…now he realized he’d actually considered it. Why else would he buy those flowers? Why else would he ask Chris to help her? Why else would he go out of his way to train her, to bring her potstickers, to have lunch with her _every single day?_

Why else would he be so open with her about his identity?

He wanted to be with her _so badly_ that he was surprised he was only realizing that now. He… He loved her. He was still in love with her, unconditionally, uncontrollably, irrevocably. His feelings hadn’t changed, even though she might’ve. The more he’d gotten to know her, the more he was seeing glimpses of _his_ Kara in her, and the more…the more he fell for her, _fast_. Fast and surely. It was like…like meeting with the love of your life all over again. It was like some sort of a—a TV show plot where one half of a couple had amnesia or something and they got to fall in love with each other all over again. He used to _love_ those kinds of shows, no matter how cliché they might seem sometimes. Yet that was before he experienced it. That was before he realized how _painful_ it truly felt like, how _mad_ it could drive someone.

How much it could hurt.

Closing his eyes he covered his mouth with his hand and plopped down on the couch, tears welling up in his eyes. He tried to suppress his sobs, to keep them in, yet a muffled one escaped his lips, shaking his body all over.

She’d almost kissed him. She’d almost _kissed_ him and he wanted it. He wanted it _badly._

Would it be such a bad thing if he _didn’t_ change the timeline?

His eyes flickered open with that, his hands falling on his lap. His sobs had died and his tears dissipated so quickly that even he was surprised. He didn’t even know where the—the thought came from, he didn’t even think it would be…something that he would consider. Something he had considered as an option. He’d thought about it of course—he couldn’t keep it out of his mind—but…but all those times he _knew_ he had to change the timeline. He _knew_ that was the right thing to do, and he’d considered staying in this timeline with that knowledge. He’d never _truly_ thought he’d stay. He’d never truly considered it as an option rather than a…a dream. A really, _really_ good dream. But now…

Did he really have to change the timeline? Was that… Was that really the right thing to do? Yes, he knew there could be consequences to changing the past, but…but as far as he could see there hadn’t been a really big consequence. Only… Only Kara was alive and…and Cadmus was still defeated—although Lena did die—and Daxamite invasion didn’t happen, and…and afterwards Dominators didn’t come. There were small changes of course, like Winn not working in DEO, James not being anywhere he could find, and Kara…Kara not being Supergirl, but none of those seemed to have a big impact on National City, at least not as big as one might expect. If there wouldn’t be a big consequence…if life would go on as good as it would’ve been in the original timeline…then what was the point? What was the point of restoring time when it would…it would only hurt him? What was the point of losing Kara all over again?

What was the point of her dying again?

Mon-El had failed her so many times in their relationship, especially at first, when they were trying to figure everything out together. At the end, it was the cascade of events he’d caused that killed her. And now… Changing the timeline meant he’d be failing her again, he’d be causing her death _again_. Granted, if there had been a big threat or a consequence, restoring time back into its place would be the right thing to do, what Kara would do. But… But if there wasn’t any of that… If time was as stable as it had been before, as _normal_ as it had been before… Going back or staying didn’t change much except her death. And was that really worth her life? Was the original timeline worth her life?

Maybe it was just because he loved her, but he knew, deep in his heart, that the answer was no. It wasn’t worth it. Nothing— _nothing_ —was worth her life. Nothing would be enough to justify killing her again.

Ducking his chin, Mon-El looked at his palms, punctured with nail marks and stained with blood. He could feel the stinging now that he…he’d calmed down. Now that he managed to _focus_ better. Disgust and fear churned in his stomach at his hands as he couldn’t help remembering what he’d been like when he first lost her. He’d been a wreck. A total, absolute wreck. He remembered going days on end without eating, barely putting anything into his mouth other than alcohol. He remembered the nightmares—or _nightmare_ , he could say—that he had every single night, seeing himself… Seeing himself kill Kara over and over again. He remembered the sobbing, how his voice would get hoarse because he’d cried so much, how every single thing reminded him of her, how it got harder and harder to go on, to continue living every other day, and how he wanted to give up more than anything. How he barely held onto life, barely functioned, and…and became this hollow person that didn’t enjoy anything, that isolated himself from others _and_ himself, that kept living only because it was the right thing to do, not because he enjoyed it anymore.

It’d changed him. Losing Kara had changed him so substantially, shattered him in such small pieces in some parts that there was no way he could go back to the way he’d been, not even if he worked on putting himself back together until he died. And… And that was exactly why losing her the second time would be harder than the first. When she…died a year ago, when he lost her then, he had _no idea_ what was in store for him. Of course he’d been terrified of having to live without her, of course it hurt like hell to think he wouldn’t have her around anymore, but it wasn’t like he _knew_ what would happen. He didn’t know he’d plunge into complete darkness and depression, how hollow he’d feel, how dull life would get. Now… Now he knew. He knew what he’d have to face if he changed the timeline. He knew what a forever without Kara was like. Going back to that—that kind of a life _terrified_ him, terrified him so _much_ that even the thought of living through that a second time was enough to render him breathless.

Shutting his eyes to distract himself from his thoughts he ran his fingers through his hair. _You’ve never been strong enough to do the right thing. You’ve always been so weak_. His mother’s words circled in his mind for what felt like the hundredth time. He clenched his teeth and shook his head. Not…Not wanting to lose Kara, not wanting to lose the love of his _life_ didn’t make him weak. Caring about someone so deeply, so wholly, that you were terrified of their loss… That wasn’t weakness. _Love_ wasn’t weakness. Besides… Besides, how could her mother know what was right and what was not? How could she know that restoring time was the right choice? Because yes, it _was_ the original timeline, but that didn’t mean it was the _best_ version of the timeline. That didn’t mean it was what time should be. Kara had died in that timeline. She was gone, _forever,_ and even without his relationship with her Mon-El couldn’t think of a version of events in which _that_ was right. Because Kara deserved much better than that. The _world_ deserved much better than the loss of Supergirl. And National City definitely deserved a much better hero than him. If… If everything had gone as it should’ve been, Kara shouldn’t have died in the Dominator invasion. He should’ve been the one that died.

If that had been the case he wouldn’t doubt that changing the timeline would be right. If that had been the case he wouldn’t hesitate this much.

He couldn’t help himself as he lifted his hand, slowly and shakily, and lightly pressed his fingers on his lips. Tears welled up in his eyes all over again at that. He still remembered how kissing Kara felt like. He still remembered the first time he kissed her, when he thought he was dying from the Medusa virus, and how it washed away every bit of regret he might’ve had about the things he would be leaving behind. He remembered their second kiss, right after Kara had gotten rid of Mxy, and how he’d gathered up every bit of his courage he could find to walk to her apartment, how he’d gotten ready to let her go—well, at least he tried to, but then…then he had to throw all of his plans out of the window when she said she wanted to be with him. And then…

Then he’d lost count. Yes, he remembered specific moments and meaningful kisses throughout the year, but it’d become his normal so fast that it’d turned into something he rarely thought about. _Kara_ had become his normal, in a way…in a way a life without had never been. And he’d missed that. Not specifically kissing her, but its normalcy, its comfort and reassurance, its happiness and joy, he’d missed all of that. He’d never had that, not until—

Not until he met Kara again in this timeline.

Mon-El shut his eyes again as emotions threatened to overwhelm him, ducked his chin and clenched the fingers on his lips into a fist. He felt a tear slide down his cheek and wet his knuckles, and then another came, and then another. By the time it felt like it was impossible to stop his tears he’d realized something.

He couldn’t change the timeline. Not even he didn’t _want_ to, or…or it would be _hard_. It was _impossible._ He’d been kidding himself all this time that he’d be able to do it once they found a way. He’d been tricking himself into believing that, because it’d been easier to do it than admit that his mother was right: he was too weak and broken to do the right thing. And it’d been easy to tell himself he would fix time once the opportunity showed up when the chance of him and J’onn finding that was close to zero. But… But he knew now, if J’onn walked into his apartment with the news that Barry had his speed on this Earth and therefore could help him time travel, he wouldn’t be able to do it. Doing it would kill him, emotionally if not physically. He’d never… He’d never be able to go through with it. _Never._

_If there isn’t a big consequence…_

Pressing his lips together Mon-El blinked his tears away, absentmindedly staring at his TV. _If there isn’t a big consequence I won’t go back,_ he told himself. He’d stay. He’d… He could build the life he’d had with Kara back again in this timeline. Or… Or if that ended up being not what she wanted, they could build themselves an entirely new life, and he’d enjoy it. He could be a critic all over again; it shouldn’t be too hard since he already had experience. He could…

He could be _happy_. He would be _happier_ than he’d ever be in the original timeline.

_If there isn’t a big consequence…_

He’d find out if there was one. He could ask J’onn, to-to scan the city, the _world_ , and see if there was a big change. The Martian could even do it on his own; he’d _seen_ the original timeline in Mon-El’s memories. And then…

Then he’d decide if it was worth it to go back and lose Kara all over again— _let her die_ all over again. And he knew that whatever they’d find would have to be really big for him to decide changing the timeline was worthy.

It was really scary that he didn’t know _how_ big that truly was.

* * *

**7 th of April, 2022**

**_10:43_ **

Two missed phone calls. Eighteen messages. That was what Mon-El woke up to after an uncomfortable slumber, with another ping from the phone indicating that another message had come.

All of them were from Kara.

All the sleepiness and exhaustion slipped away from him when he saw her name on the screen, his heart starting to pound. The previous day he decided that—that it would be better to talk to J’onn the next day, when his head was clearer, and opted to go to sleep. Well, _tried_ to, at least. All he managed to do was tossing and turning until about 1 a.m., and then giving up and turning on the bedside lamp to read a book, and when he failed to focus on that just trying to go back to sleep again—with little success. He was sure it was about 4 a.m. when he _actually_ managed to get rid of the haunting thoughts and fall asleep.

Not that it had been much comfortable, but that wasn’t the matter.

Rubbing his eyes he opened the screen of his phone, holding it with one hand and steadying his wrist with the other so that the phone wouldn’t be shaking. He opened Kara’s messages.

_\- Mon-El?_

_\- I know it’s a bit late, but I wanted to tell you something._

_\- I mean, I_ had to _tell you something._

_\- I mean, after what happened yesterday night._

Mon-El couldn’t help smiling at that. Only Kara would babble over text.

_\- Anyway, that’s not the point._

_\- What I’m trying to say is that…_

_\- I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done what I did yesterday._

_\- I was out of place._

_\- And I understand why you left; I’d be uncomfortable in your situation too._

_\- I just wanted you to know that there’s no reason for that._

_\- I get that you don’t care about me, at least not in the same way. And that’s good._

_\- That’s fine._

_\- It’s okay._

_\- But I still wanna be friends with you. And I was serious about wanting to be a superhero._

_\- So we can still keep working together, right?_

_\- I mean, we can ignore what happened, right? We can let it go._

_\- Anyway, that’s what I wanted to say._

_\- And I’m so sorry again._

Mon-El saw that the last message came in at 2:30 a.m., right around the time he gave up reading and went to sleep. If he’d stayed awake for a little while longer… He’d probably see her messages. Not that he’d know what to do about them, but…

And there were three messages that came in the morning.

_\- Mon-El?_

_\- Is everything okay between us?_

_\- We had lunch plans today. Maybe we could meet up then and talk face-to-face, if that’s what you want?_

The Daxamite felt his chest constrict at the last message as he just stared at the phone. Kara had gotten it wrong _. Of course_ she’d gotten it wrong, what did Mon-El really expect anyway? From her perspective, he’d run away when she tried to kiss him. What could she have thought, other than that he didn’t care about her, not in _that way_ at least? She didn’t know that, in another timeline, he was completely in love with her. She didn’t know that he’d lost her, and it hurt like nothing else. She didn’t know… She didn’t know that the only reason he pulled back was because he was _terrified_ of how much he still _loved_ her and _wanted_ to be with her, not that he didn’t want to kiss her. He’d been afraid to have her just to lose her all over again.

She was hurt. He’d hurt Kara. Inadvertently, yes, but that didn’t change that…that she obviously felt let down and _rejected_. Gulping he opened the keyboard of his phone, his fingers hovering over it to write something, yet…

Yet what could he write? That he wanted to meet up and talk about it? If that happened… What would he say? That he’d wanted to be with her just a bit too much, or that losing her had hurt like _hell_ once and he didn’t want to go through that again? That he _loved her_?

Yeah, that would go real well.

Another message came as he debated what he could say, his hands shaking. But Kara was faster than him, and he jumped when his phone vibrated in his hands. Another message from her.

_\- You do know I can see that you saw my messages, right?_

Mon-El’s fingers froze over the phone at that as he felt his heart lurch in his chest. _Of course._ He’d completely forgotten that. Shame churned in his stomach as he pressed his lips together, trying to come up with something, anything to say. Anything to…to stop Kara from hurting. To keep her from thinking he didn’t want her that way, that…that she wasn’t enough for him. Because she _was,_ she was _more than enough._ She was everything he’d ever wanted, and the last thing he wanted was to hurt her. He’d done that enough already.

An instinct took over him as his fingers traveled on the keyboard of the phone, typing a message. An instinct that he’d developed through years of being with Kara, that helped him detect Kara’s feelings even over text. After some time he’d gotten pretty good at understanding when she was angry, or sad, or hurt, or just needed some comfort. And he’d gotten pretty good at coming up with the appropriate response.

\- **We’re okay,** he wrote and sent to Kara before she could freak out more. He gulped and forced his brain cells, which seemed to have gone into a frenzy mode since the previous night, to work. He deleted and rewrote the next message about four times before he sent it.

**\- I’m sorry I couldn’t respond sooner. I just needed some time to think.**

_And I didn’t know what to say,_ he thought, yet couldn’t write it down. Kara’s response came no more than a couple of seconds later, and her relief was evident even from the short couple of words she’d written.

_\- Yeah, I understand. I know what you mean._

_\- So…_

_\- Are we still on for lunch?_

Mon-El’s eyes flickered to the clock on his bedside table. There were two hours till Kara’s lunch time, and normally making it there shouldn’t be a problem for him, but…

But he needed to talk to J’onn. He needed to talk to J’onn and find out if the timeline change created a huge problem. Because if it did… If that was the case… He couldn’t keep seeing Kara. He couldn’t keep being—being _around_ her, talking to her, hearing her laugh and seeing her smile, just to…just to lose her all over again. If there had been a consequence that required him to restore the timeline…

He would have to stay away from Kara. As much as it would hurt, and as hard as it would be—and Mon-El knew it would be _excruciating,_ because even the _thought_ of it was enough to make him feel like somebody was crushing his heart—he’d stay away from her and…and be the hero his Kara believed he was. Save the world. _Protect civilians above all else_ , even if it meant… Even if it meant he’d have to lose the love of his life all over again.

His fingers had started trembling all over again as he wrote his answer..

**\- I’m busy for lunch today. Superhero work.**

**\- Maybe we can postpone it to another time?**

He sent the last part without his intention, the hopeful part of his brain—the part that hoped there had been no consequence of the timeline change that would force him to fix it—getting ahead of logic and…frankly, common sense. This time it took Kara longer to text.

_\- Oh._

_\- Okay._

_\- I’ll see you later then. Right?_

Mon-El felt his gut twist with guilt when he read the pain behind her texts.

**\- Right.**

**\- Bye, Kara.**

That was all he could write before he closed his phone and put it on his bedside table, burying his face in his hands. He could feel bile rising inside him, threatening to get out, yet he managed to push it down. He stood up instead, focusing on the job in front of him.

Figuring out whether changing back the timeline was worth losing Kara when he’d just gotten her back.

* * *

**_13:10_ **

Mon-El had to gather up his courage as he stood in front of J’onn’s door before knocking on it. Since the morning… Since he left his house… He was meaning to come here and talk to him about—about the “consequences”, yet the opportunity only showed itself until then.

Well, okay, that wasn’t true. There was always an opportunity…but he opted not to take it. Like when he first arrived at the DEO. He was _just_ making his way to the Martian’s office when Dana stopped him, telling him that there was an armed robbery going on somewhere. And of course he had to rush there. He dealt with it pretty quickly, coming back no more than fifteen minutes later, but then it was Chris’s turn to intervene.

Though, granted, that one was important.

The poor guy looked so disheveled with his messy hair and purple circles under his eyes as he pointed at his computer that Mon-El pitied him and listened to what he wanted to say. It was about the… _disappearance_ of Destin Findlay, for the lack of a better word. Apparently Chris had stayed up till about four a.m., analyzing every bit of security footage he’d gathered from the house, and came up with absolutely nothing other than what they already knew. Destin was completely erased from life. He’d also discovered that the aliens had took a bunch of photos, some equipment from the garage and some stuff from the ridiculous amount of bathrooms in the house, as well as clearing almost half of the basement, which was probably Destin’s gaming room. But that was it. They’d never— _not once—_ turned their faces to the camera or took off their ski masks. They never once hesitated as they walked around the house, as if they _knew_ what they came for and how to get it. It was…bone-chillingly terrifying.

“I could’ve found something from their eyes,” Chris had complained, “if they looked. DEO has ridiculously advanced technology. Maybe we could’ve even ID’d them, but no. _Of course_ they couldn’t turn to the security cameras.” He’d huffed disappointedly, burying his face to his one hand. “There isn’t even a reflection of their faces on the mirrors or windows or…stuff, and trust me, there are a _lot_ of reflective surfaces in that house.”

That, of course, hadn’t elevated Mon-El’s mood one bit.

It didn’t help that Alex came at that second with the news that they hadn’t come up with anything from the house, other than the fact that _everything_ about Destin, since he was about thirteen years old, was gone. Four years of memories, belongings, photos, _everything._ Mon-El didn’t even know what to make of that, yet he’d promised to investigate it further, and made a mental note to ask the guys, if he did find them, why they were so interested in four years of some normal _teenager’s_ life.

Honestly, he had no idea why anyone would be interested in _any_ teenager. He’d encountered some of them a lot, at least online, being a TV and movie critic and all, and some of the things they said… It made him cringe, truly.

It was about 12:35 by the time he, Alex, and Chris finished their “exchange of information”, and by then Mon-El had started feeling hungry, so instead of going to J’onn’s office he’d opted to take Alex’s offer to go out and have a hamburger. Not that he had to, but…

But the later he knew the answer to his question, the better. Because if it wasn’t what he wanted it to be… He didn’t know what he would do. He didn’t know how he’d…he’d say goodbye to Kara— _again_. He didn’t know how to let her go. It hurt, the thought of it _hurt so much_ that…that a year ago he would’ve never believed it was possible.

A year ago he didn’t know what it was like to lose everything you had.

He clenched his teeth, trying to push away those thoughts, and reminded himself that the consequences of the timeline change could be bigger than him or even Kara. He couldn’t let somebody else get hurt, or _worse,_ just because he didn’t want to lose her again. He couldn’t be that—that selfish prince again that only cared about himself. Kara would hate him for it. If she knew, if she could see him, she’d _hate_ him. She’d _want_ him to change the timeline to save others, even if it meant her death.

He tried to hold onto that belief as tightly as possible before it slipped away from his hands and get replaced by fear, and pushed open J’onn’s door. The Martian looked up at him, surprise flickering in his eyes. “Mon-El.” His eyes flickered to the clock on the wall, his brows furrowing into a frown. “I didn’t expect you to be here at this hour.”

Mon-El’s shoulders tightened at the silent question behind J’onn’s words. _Why are you here and not with Kara?_ Not that he was wrong for thinking that, since…since the Daxamite had spent every single lunch break Kara had with her.

He had no idea how he managed to convince himself they were being nothing more than friendly, and once the time came he’d be able to let her go. The more he delved deep into the—the motives behind his actions, the more he realized that he never really _thought_ he’d let her go. He certainly never _acted_ like it, but all that time that he stalled himself by saying it was only temporary, and that he _knew_ it was temporary, he was only kidding himself. He never really considered going back, because…

Because a part of him, a part that was selfishly in love with Kara, hoped that he’d never have to face that choice. Hoped that changing the timeline would be impossible. That part had poisoned Mon-El’s thoughts without him realizing it, at least until _now_.

He’d never really _intended_ to leave Kara. Which was why what J’onn would say was so important to him. Because if he said that—that letting the timeline stick could end up in a worldwide disaster or something like that, he’d have to truly consider losing Kara again, and he didn’t know _how_ to do it.

“Yeah, I…” Mon-El had to stop to clear his throat when his voice came out hoarse. “I needed to talk to you. About something.” His fingers curled into fists in his pockets as he stepped forward. He eyed one of J’onn’s chairs but he knew he was too jittery to sit. He could feel his nails digging on his palms.

J’onn must’ve seen the seriousness of the situation because his face softened immediately. Straightening up, he nodded. “Of course.” He searched Mon-El’s face. “Are you okay?”

Mon-El didn’t even bother to lie as he shook his head and gulped to get rid of the knot in his throat. “No,” he whispered, laughing dryly and ducking his chin. “Something… Something happened yesterday,” he began to explain when J’onn didn’t say anything, only watching him. “Something that made me realize that I’m… I’m not…” He struggled to find the right words. “I’m not ready to leave this timeline,” he finally managed to say as he lifted his head, wanting to see how the Martian would react. And it was not what he expected. He’d expected to see surprise, or disappointment, or maybe even confusion, but there was only _understanding_ on J’onn’s face.

“Yeah, I know,” he said. Blinking, Mon-El shook his head.

“How?”

“I can read minds, Mon-El, or have you forgotten that?” A small smile pulled J’onn’s lips before his face turned serious again. “But even if I couldn’t, it would be obvious from your actions, especially about Kara.” He ducked his chin to catch the Daxamite’s eyes. “Bringing her flowers, taking her out on dates, training her… Those aren’t the actions of someone preparing to say goodbye.” Mon-El’s shoulders slumped at that as he finally plopped down on a chair, shame churning in his stomach. He closed his eyes and gulped.

“I wanted to do the right thing,” he tried to say with a shaky voice. “I wanted… I wanted to be a hero and—and prove to her that her belief in me was rightly placed, but I… I can’t, J’onn. I _can’t_ go back to that life without her.” He felt tears threatening his eyes, no matter how many times he tried to blink them away. The words flowed out of his mouth without his intention, every flicker of pain he was feeling and keeping in rushing out. He fixed his eyes on the floor as he continued. “It was horrible. I can’t—I can’t even describe it. It was… It was so hollow, and painful, like…like someone was ripping out my heart all over again each day. Like I couldn’t _breathe_ anymore. I couldn’t… I couldn’t move on, I couldn’t spend a _minute_ without thinking about her. It hurt. J’onn, it hurt _too much.”_ He lifted his head to look at the Martian, feeling his desperation shine in his eyes. “I don’t know how to live without her. I don’t… I _can’t_ go through it again.” He hadn’t even realized he’d buried his nails into his palms again until J’onn walked around his table to sit across from him and grabbed his hands. He softly uncurled his fingers.

“I know, Mon-El.” He searched Mon-El’s face. “You love her.” The Daxamite couldn’t even say anything as he tried to focus on pushing back his tears. “I haven’t seen anyone love someone else the way you love Kara. And I have barely seen a couple that had been as happy as you two were before she died. I can’t even begin to understand the pain you must’ve gone through—and still going through—even though I know your memories.” Mon-El shut his eyes as he tried to swallow hard to get rid of the knot in his throat, but it didn’t work.

“I’m so sick of hurting,” he confessed, his voice small. “I’m—I’m sick of the pain and…and the hollowness. All of it. I just… I just want it to stop hurting.”

“And you have that with her.” Mon-El’s eyes flew open with J’onn’s words. “You’re not hurting when you’re with her.” It took the Daxamite one second to answer. He shook his head, pressing his lips together.

“I want to stay, J’onn.” He stared at his hands, taking a deep breath. “I’ve… I’ve thought about it. And I think… If there isn’t a big consequence of the timeline change, there’s…there’s no point in returning it to the way it was. I can build a life here, with…with Kara. A life that I… That I can be happy in. I won’t have that if I go back.” He looked up at the Martian. “Could you find Barry?” J’onn straightened up at that and nodded.

“Yeah. He doesn’t have his powers either.” He watched Mon-El’s reaction for a brief second at that, closely enough to see the flicker of hope in the Daxamite’s eyes. Mon-El cleared his throat.

“You know both timelines,” he told the Martian. “Is there… Has there been a big consequence of what my mother did?” _Is there anything that would force me to change the timeline?_ He was almost afraid to hear the answer, at least until he saw the small smile pulling J’onn’s lips.

“No. As far as I’ve seen this timeline is as normal as yours, with only minor changes, nothing else.” Mon-El felt his chest fill with a bubble of hope at his words. He searched J’onn’s eyes, trying to find something that said he was joking, or lying, but there wasn’t. He was being honest. _He was honest,_ and there wasn’t…

He could stay. He could stay in this timeline. He didn’t have to… He didn’t have to leave Kara, he didn’t have to lose her again. He could be with her. He could have her; after a year of being without her he could _finally_ have her. It felt so _good_ that for a moment Mon-El felt dizzy, struggling to process the turmoil of emotions swirling inside him. Yet it seemed like her heart had already sorted through them and was slamming against his ribs, telling him with each beat that _he would be with Kara, he would be with Kara, he would be with Kara._ He didn’t have to feel the pain of her death anymore. He didn’t have to go through that…that hollowness, and anger, and guilt, and shame, that came with it. He could be with her. Tears welled up in his eyes as he finally managed to find his voice.

“Then I’ll stay,” he told J’onn with a gulp and a nod. “You can… You can stop looking for a way to fix time. We can stop looking. I…” He could feel hope illuminating his eyes as he looked up at J’onn. He knew the Martian could see it too. “I want to stay. I’ll stay.” _With her. I’ll be with her._

J’onn’s smile reflected the joy in Mon-El’s eyes as he nodded. “I’ll stop looking,” he promised as he reached forward and squeezed Mon-El’s hand, before gesturing him to leave. “Now go be with your girl before you lose any more time.”

Mon-El didn’t need J’onn to tell him the second time.

* * *

**_17:55_ **

Mon-El could feel his heart stuttering with excitement as he stood in front of Kara’s door, waiting for her to answer. He’d already knocked a couple of seconds ago, yet he was tempted to knock again, but he didn’t want to rush her. He knew she was inside. That was why he’d waited till six p.m. to see her: She would be at her house then, alone, and they’d have time to talk without getting interrupted. When he left J’onn’s office, at first he just wanted to fly to CatCo, wrap his arms around her to pull her close, and…and press his lips on hers. Kiss her like he’d never kissed her, because…because he’d missed it. He’d missed it so much that it was ridiculous at that point, yet… It wasn’t much of a surprise, was it? He’d been with her for five years. Five whole years he’d been around her, he’d hugged her, held her hand, and _kissed_ her, _every single day_. Anybody would miss it if that was suddenly taken away from them.

Just as he’d lifted his hand again, ready to knock, he heard shuffling sounds and footsteps coming from inside. “Alex, I told you,” he heard Kara say as she unlocked the door. “I don’t need you to—“ She came to a complete stop when she opened the door, her eyes meeting with Mon-El’s. Her mouth dropped open and her grip on the wad of tissues in her hand loosened. Mon-El watched it fall, not being able to stop himself from wincing when he realized what they were for, before he lifted his head to look at her. He shifted his hands in his pockets.

“Hi,” he almost gasped, watching Kara blink with semi-shock. Her loose curls bounced around her shoulders when she shook her head and shut her eyes.

“I’m hallucinating,” she muttered to herself, gripping the door handle tightly and slamming her other hand over her eyes. “Great. As if everything else wasn’t enough, now I’m hallucinating too.” A chuckle left Mon-El’s lips at that as he leaned forward, grabbed Kara’s wrist softly to pull her hand away from her eyes. She slowly opened them in two thin slits, the blue of them shining even more brightly with the sheen of tears. He offered her a small smile.

“You’re not hallucinating,” he reassured her, squeezing her hand to prove his point. It was something they always did; just holding their hands tightly to reassure each other that they were together. Since both of them could only feel each other’s grip, it was their special way of saying _it’s me, I’m here, I’m with you._

Mon-El fixed his gaze on the Kryptonian. “It’s me, Kara. I’m here.” _I’ll always be here._ Kara opened her eyes fully this time, searching his face, searching for an indication that he was really there and it was really happening, before her gaze found his.

“Mon-El?” She seemed at a loss of words as she opened her mouth and nothing came out except his name.

“Can I…” Mon-El started when he realized she wasn’t going to say anything. “Can I come in?” He reluctantly had to drop her hand when she nodded and stepped back to let him in. He heard the door close shut behind him as his eyes traveled inside Kara’s apartment. Familiar, yet…yet so different in some places. The walls were the same, and some of the furniture, but other than that it seemed like the whole apartment had been redecorated, as he’d seen when he first ended up in this timeline. But what he hadn’t noticed when he looked at the place from outside was that…that it still had Kara’s aura. The place still put a smile on someone’s face, whether it was their blue couch that stood right across from the TV or Kara’s new beige one. Still, he couldn’t help it when his eyes lingered on the couch wistfully, wishing it had still been the blue one.

“You came,” Kara blurted out a couple of seconds later, pulling Mon-El out of his thoughts. He turned around to face her slowly, a smile playing on his lips.

“Yeah,” he said with a nod, watching the Kryptonian as she blinked again. It seemed like she still couldn’t shake off her surprise. “Why do you seem so surprised?” She shook her head to pull herself together with Mon-El’s question.

“I—I didn’t think you wanted to see me.” She pulled on the sleeves of her black sweater, her gaze flickering to the floor. She only stole glances at him through her lashes, just like she always did when she felt nervous about something. A corner of Mon-El’s lips tipped up at the familiar gesture. “After what happened yesterday. And when you cancelled our lunch date I thought…” Her eyes widened at that as they snapped up to look at him. “I mean, not _date_ like a date-date, but like a…like a friendly date.” She shut her eyes as a blush crept up her cheeks. “It wasn’t a date! I didn’t mean—“ She stopped when Mon-El started laughing, her eyes turning back to him. She scowled at him. “Don’t laugh! I’m… I’m trying to apologize here.”

_That_ stopped Mon-El. His laugh died off as he searched Kara’s eyes, confused, wondering what she might be apologizing about. It wasn’t as if she’d done anything wrong, he was the one that got too scared and ran away. _He_ should be the one apologizing.

“Kara—“ he started, but before he could even get a word out the Kryptonian stopped him.

“No, wait.” She stared at a spot behind Mon-El, seemingly trying to gather up her strength. She took a deep breath before her eyes finally turned to Mon-El. “I just… I have to say something before you say anything. If that’s—If that’s okay.” Hesitation and questions were clouding her eyes as she searched Mon-El’s face. The Daxamite nodded, feeling a knot lodging in his throat.

“Good.” Even as she huffed, Kara didn’t seem even one bit relaxed. “Good, because I… I want you to know why I did what I did yesterday night.” Clearing her throat she straightened up, clasping her hands in front of her and playing with her fingers. She looked so uncomfortable that a part of Mon-El wanted to just step forward, grab her hands softly and say that she could tell her everything, and he’d always listen. But… But he also knew Kara needed to sort things out on her own when she was trying to say something, so he let her speak without interrupting her, let her gather her thoughts together and gave her as much time as she needed.

“Ever since I came on earth…” she finally started after staying silent for a couple of seconds, lifting her gaze. “I’ve—I’ve tried to be normal. To fit in among humans, to _be_ like them. But no matter how much I pretended like I was a part of them, and no matter how many times I believed that I was _finally_ normal, something always happened to remind me that I wasn’t. Like… Like bruising someone’s arm just because I knocked into them in the hallway, or shattering numerous pens in my hand because I held them too tightly, or…or breaking someone’s toes while dancing. I’ve never truly felt normal.” Her gaze—intense, blue gaze—bore into Mon-El as she took a deep breath. The Daxamite wondered whether she could hear the fluttering in his heart or she _knew_ that he hadn’t taken a breath since she started talking, yet before he could answer that question she continued. “Until I met you.” She reached up to take off her glasses with shaky fingers and put them aside. “And… And suddenly, there was this person that I could relate to, this person that had similar powers with mine, that knew what it was like to be…me. Because I’ve never really had that in my life.” She couldn’t help chuckling at that as she turned her eyes to the ceiling, trying to compose herself.

“And I felt… I felt normal when I was around you; for the first time since I came on earth I felt _normal_. I didn’t feel the need to put on the ‘human Kara Danvers’ mask with you; I could just be myself. Be… Be Kara Zor-El. I could talk to you about Krypton, or some other planet, and you wouldn’t stare at me with blank unknowing eyes, because you’d have actually _been_ there or heard about it. I didn’t need to hide the fact that I couldn’t feel a human touch with you like I did with everyone else, because you’ve felt that way too. I didn’t have to pretend like their touch was comforting or…or reassuring, so that _they_ don’t feel bad or think that I’m awkward. Not only _that_ , but…but I could also _feel_ your touch. I could truly feel the—the tightness of your grip when you held my hand, or your tap on my shoulder when you approached from behind me, or…or even the brush of your fingers when you handed me something. I know those are just small things, and probably nobody notices how people’s fingers brush each other when they give or take something, but…but I did notice _not feeling_ them. I… I felt that with you, and it was such a…such an _ordinary_ human thing that I felt… I felt _normal_.” She pressed her lips together when she realized her voice had started to shake, and ducked her chin to compose herself. Mon-El couldn’t do anything other than stare at her, his muscles frozen, his heart feeling like it was about to beat out of his chest.

“But most of all,” Kara finally kept going, focusing her gaze back at him, “I didn’t have to control my every move when I was with you. I didn’t have to be careful not to bruise your arm when I jokingly hit you. I didn’t have to be careful not to crush your bones when I held your hand or hugged you, and I could… I could _kiss_ you without worrying about breaking your nose, because that… I mean, that kills the mood really fast.” She forced a smile at that, watching Mon-El’s face. He couldn’t even laugh as he watched her smile die. She cleared her throat.

“That was why… That was why I tried to kiss you. Because I thought that—that finally, I could have what I ever wanted. A… A perfect someone for me. Someone that I didn’t have to hide anything from, that understood me perfectly, that…that I could just be myself with. Someone that could love _all_ of me.” She frowned and gulped at that, her voice thick with tears, before she shook her head. “Anyway, I just… I just wanted you to know that. So that you’d know I wasn’t trying to hurt you or anything. I just thought that… Never mind, it doesn’t matter now. I shouldn’t have done it. I’m sorry.” She turned her gaze to the floor as she leaned on the kitchen counter as if she needed some support.

Mon-El didn’t know what to say for a moment. It was almost the—the _first_ time he saw Kara being this honest in one moment. Sure, he knew what she was talking about; Kara had told her all of that during the course of their relationship, but he’d mostly learned them in bits and pieces. Kara, for someone who valued honesty and truth so much, wasn’t so good at expressing herself than one would think. Though it wasn’t necessarily because she was lying about her feelings, but mostly… Mon-El doubted mostly even _she_ didn’t know how she truly felt, or didn’t want to _accept_ her feelings. But now… Now he could see honesty shining in his eyes, and even straining her voice, as she played with a thread of fabric of her sweater.

“Kara,” he started again, stepping forward to get closer to her and ducked his chin. Kara’s eyes flickered up. “You don’t have to apologize for that.”

The Kryptonian shook her head fervently at that. “No, I do. Mon-El, I… I directly went for the kiss without—without asking you whether you wanted or not, or whether it was okay or not. I just… I assumed things about you, about…us, and that was unacceptable. Just because… Just because I felt a certain way about you didn’t mean you felt the same way.” She cleared her throat as a blush crept up her face. Mon-El felt his heart stutter with her choice of words as he ducked his chin, trying to catch Kara’s gaze.

“I didn’t say I didn’t want the kiss,” he muttered, almost too quietly, yet he knew Kara would be able to hear. Her eyes snapped up at that, wide with shock, as she struggled to process his words. She shook her head slightly.

“But… I thought… When you pulled away…” She seemed so flustered, almost so _afraid_ about his words being lies or jokes that Mon-El felt guilt churn in his stomach. He dropped his gaze to the kitchen island and rested his chin on it, trying to pull words into a logical sentence. _And you’d practiced what you would say as you came here._

Granted, he hadn’t expected that big a confession from Kara, but still…

“I’m sorry about that,” he managed to start a couple of seconds later. “I’m sorry that I pulled back and ran away like that. That was wrong of me. You… You have nothing to apologize for.” He searched Kara’s gaze before he took a deep breath and continued. “It was me that got scared when you tried to kiss me.” Confusion flickered on the Kryptonian’s face.

“Scared?” Mon-El chuckled dryly as he nodded.

“Yeah, I… When you leaned in to kiss me, I freaked out. Because if we kissed, if I _let_ myself kiss you, it would mean that—that there was something going on between us. I’d have to _accept_ that there was something going on between us, and it was more than just friendship as I… As I was kidding myself into believing. As I _let_ myself believe, because it was far easier than the alternative.” Taking a deep breath he looked up at Kara’s eyes. “It was easier than accepting that I might care about you more than as just a friend.” He could almost hear Kara’s breath getting hitched in her throat at his words, her blue, comet-like eyes staring at him. He wasn’t sure she was even breathing as he forced a smile, but it dissipated quickly. Bowing his head and staring at his hand on the kitchen island, he continued.

“I wasn’t sure… I wasn’t sure I was ready to accept that. Not even that, I thought I wasn’t ready to take that risk. I was too _scared_ for it. I already lost yo—“ He stopped himself before he said something he shouldn’t, and corrected himself. “I already lost someone that I loved once, and it…it hurt like hell. I don’t know how else to explain it. I didn’t want to go through that again.” Kara visibly winced at that.

“Is that the…the girlfriend that you mentioned?” she asked almost fearfully, as if she didn’t want to hurt him. Mon-El looked up at her. _My fiancée,_ he couldn’t help thinking. _My love. My mate. You._

“Yeah.”

“I’m so sorry about that.” And from the way she leaned forward and put her hand on his, from the genuine way she looked at him, he knew she really meant it. He forced a smile and tried to shrug.

“It’s… It’s in the past.” The lie felt almost sour in his mouth. From where he was now, standing in front of Kara, ready to start a new relationship with her, that it was _not_ in the past. It would _never_ be in the past.

“Yeah,” Kara agreed with a nod, taking him out of his thoughts. Her gaze searched his face intently as she bit down on her lip. Her hand was hovering over his as if she wasn’t sure she should hold it or not. “How about now?” she asked, her voice small and quiet. “Are you… Are you ready now?”

Mon-El hesitated only for a second before he pushed all of his fear away and nodded, making sure his gaze never left Kara’s.

“Yeah. I’m ready.”

He didn’t know whether it was _him_ that made the first move, or it was her, yet in a matter of _milliseconds_ the distance between them was closed and their lips had crashed onto each other. And Mon-El might’ve thought that he’d missed kissing her before—and he _had_ missed kissing her like nothing else—yet at that moment… Only at that moment he realized how _much_ he’d actually missed it. How… How _good_ it felt. He couldn’t help the moan escaping from his lips as he wrapped his one arm around her waist, pulling her close, as _close_ as possible, as he traced the line of her spine with his other hand and let his fingers tangle with the curls of her hair. He barely registered a stool falling down or his hand pushing a glass to the floor as he pressed Kara’s back to the kitchen island. He didn’t care. He _couldn’t_ care. All he could think was that—that Kara was in his arms, that he was _kissing_ her, and this was…this was real. This wasn’t a dream that he’d have to wake up from. This wasn’t a hallucination caused by the unbelievable amounts of alcohol he drank the first weeks after losing her. This wouldn’t go away, slip through his fingers, and disappear. It was real and it was there and…

And it would stay. He’d stay right here, with her, for the rest of his life. He’d make sure he never left her side anymore, he’d make sure she was okay and well, he’d make sure he didn’t lose her again. He’d make sure that this time, they had the forever they deserved.

He shivered when he felt Kara’s arms wrap around his shoulders. The Kryptonian stood on her tiptoes, as if _she_ also wanted to close the little bit of distance that was still there between them, and their chests flushed together. Mon-El knew that she wasn’t holding back. He could feel it well enough as her nails brushed his shirt, as she ran her fingers through his hair and pulled the strands slightly, he could _feel_ it when she bit his lip or gripped his shoulder. He could feel all of that, and for a moment he got lost in the sensation of it, all those feelings and all of his neurons firing at the same time. It was overwhelming, consuming, yet…yet it was also _amazing_ at the same time. It’d been so long—too long—since he felt anything like this. It’d been so long since he felt _anything,_ that…that he reveled in all those emotions. He let all of that in and let himself get drunk in them.

Kara tugged at the buttons of his shirt, as if asking him to take it off. He almost chuckled into the kiss as he pulled back only slightly, never getting too far away from her. “Impatient?” he murmured before she followed his lips, groaning with complaint.

“Shut up,” she whispered as she kissed him again, this time staying a bit farther away so that she could reach his buttons. Not that it turned out to be much of a problem with her superspeed, and it was probably a good thing, or else Mon-El was pretty sure he’d have to go to his house half naked the next morning.

Kara threw the shirt aside, and it didn’t take long for the other pieces of their clothing to find their place around the house, on the floor, creating a trail to the bedroom. It didn’t take too long for them to find themselves on the bed, Kara throwing Mon-El on it so strongly that he heard it creak underneath him, almost breaking. Yet they both weren’t in a place to care. Both of them waited so long to have this. Each other. Their _perfect_ partner. Granted, it was different for both of them in this timeline, since for Kara it was like she found him for the first time when Mon-El simply got her back after suffering through her loss, yet it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter _how_ it happened, _how_ they found each other, it only mattered that they _did_. Whether it was a miracle, or chance, or…or Rhea trying to change time to get what she wanted, the only thing that mattered was now, and now…

Now they were together.

Mon-El couldn’t help thinking afterwards—when he actually managed to start thinking again—as he stroked Kara’s hair, who was lying next to him with her head resting on his chest and their legs tangled around each other, that maybe this was always meant to be. Maybe… Maybe this time it really wasn’t just chance, but it was the universe—or _multiverse_ even—aligning to reunite them. Maybe they were _always_ meant to find each other again, and again, and again, even if they’d have to suffer through losses and time changes to do that. _Soulmates._ Was that what humans called it? Two people that were the right fit for each other, that were meant to be together, two people whose love could defeat anything, transcend time and realms to bring them together.

He’d once believed that Kara and he were soulmates, at least until he lost her. But maybe he’d been right back then.

Maybe they really _were_ soulmates.


	17. With Her

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think after all that angst we've been through in this story, a bit of happiness was needed :)
> 
> Hope you like this!

**8 th of April, 2022**

**_07:09_ **

The crispy smell of bacon filled Kara’s house as Mon-El took them off the stove to put them on the plate. A smile pulled his lips when he looked at his work. It’d taken him about half an hour to prepare and arrange them as he wanted, yet it’d all been worth it in the end: Bacons and two fried eggs on one plate, shaped like a smiley face, with a stack of pancakes next to it, two heart shaped toasts, and a cup of coffee. Honestly, he was surprised Kara hadn’t gotten up by the time he was making the first pancake; the smell of food had always been successful waking her up if she wasn’t so tired.

Though considering what they’d done the other night, it wasn’t so surprising that she was still sleeping like a baby.

Mon-El felt his smile turn into a grin when the thoughts filled her mind, and looked at the time on his phone to distract himself. 07:10. Which meant Kara had about thirty minutes before she had to leave for work. And now that the breakfast was ready… He could wake her up.

Grabbing the tray he walked to Kara’s bed, only to see the Kryptonian spread her legs under a blanket, one arm over at his side of the bed and the other tucked under her pillow, her hair falling down on her cheeks and face. She looked so sweet, so innocent, that he couldn’t help the fluttering of his heart. He couldn’t help remembering all those times before that he’d prepared her breakfast in bed—well, the times she didn’t wake up before he was finished—and how he stood here just like he was doing now and just…just watch her sleep for a couple of seconds. Wondering how he’d gotten so lucky to get her. Feeling so grateful that she’d chosen _him_ to be with, chosen _him_ to marry. And sometimes he’d realize he didn’t want to ever be without her, he didn’t want to be forced to live in a life where she wasn’t by her side. He didn’t think he could survive losing her.

The previous year had proven those thoughts almost too perfectly.

But now he had her back.

Holding onto that thought he placed the tray on the bedside table before turning back to Kara, and softly pushed her hair away from her face. His lips curled into a smile.

“Hey,” he whispered softly, cupping her cheek. Kara groaned at his words, grabbing her pillow and snuggling into it even more, making Mon-El laugh quietly. Leaning down he pressed his lips on her forehead briefly, and then on her lips, reveling in how good it felt to be able to do that. How good it’d been to wake up next to her in the morning after waking up to an empty bed for over a year. How good it was to stroke her hair, to kiss her forehead, to feel her tighten her arm around his waist in her sleep. He’d woken up to hollowness and emptiness for so long, woken up with tears in his eyes and sobs lined in his throat that he tried so hard to suppress, that having her by his side now…

He slipped away from his thoughts when Kara shifted on the bed, her eyes fluttering open. Mon-El felt his smile widen when he saw their blue, tinted with sleep. “Good morning,” he mumbled as he let his fingers get tangled in her hair, and stroked her cheek with his thumb. At first Kara seemed surprised at seeing him, at the fact that he was there, in front of her, but then the corners of her lips curled into a small smile.

“Hey,” she said sleepily as she pushed herself off the bed slightly, her eyes traveling on the Daxamite. “You’re up early.” A carefree laugh bubbled up Mon-El’s chest at that as he nodded.

“Yeah, it must be my superhero senses,” he joked, even though the reason he woke up early had nothing to do with Valor. He’d just gotten used to not sleeping much after her loss.

“Anyway,” he continued, wanting to change the subject, “I didn’t wake up early just for the sake of waking up early.” He pointed at the bedside table with his head. “I made you breakfast.” Kara arched her brows as she adjusted her pillow and sat up. “There’s bacon, fried eggs, pancakes with maple syrup, toast, and… Oh, let’s not forget coffee.” He was grinning as he turned back to Kara, seeing her completely surprised wide eyes. “All your…” he started, but his voice trailed off at the last words. _Favorites,_ he couldn’t help thinking. They were Kara’s favorites, yeah…but there was no way he could know that in this timeline. Instead he cleared his throat and changed his words. “I didn’t know which one you’d like, so I made all of them.” He ducked his chin to catch Kara’s eyes that seemed to be fixated on the tray. “Kara?”

“You stayed,” she suddenly blurted out, turning to him. Mon-El blinked at her almost outburst. “And… And you made breakfast in bed.” Her voice was thick with emotions.

Mon-El’s heart stuttered in his chest at her words. Had he done something wrong? He always used to stay till the morning in Kara’s house and prepare Kara breakfast whenever he slept there. Yet… Yet that didn’t mean _this_ Kara liked it. Maybe she’d have wanted him to leave. Maybe she wouldn’t have wanted him to stay.

“Yeah,” he said, nervously searching her eyes. “Is that… Is that weird? Should I have not—“

“No,” Kara cut his words, shaking her head with a laugh. She tucked her hair behind her ear as her gaze flickered to the floor. “No, it’s just… I sort of expected you to leave.” Mon-El furrowed his brows with confusion at first, until her words from the previous night hit him. Until he realized that she didn’t _expect_ him to leave, but she was _afraid_ that he would. And he knew damn well how fear could easily cloud one’s judgment.

“Hey,” he whispered as he knelt down next to the bed so that he was at her eye level. Grabbing her hand he laced their fingers together and squeezed it. He made sure she could feel his grip. “I’m not leaving you. Ever. Okay?” _Never again_. He caught a strand of her hair that fell on her cheek between his fingers, and tucked it behind her ear. Kara leaned her head on his hand as she nodded.

“Yeah.” She reached forward and pressed her lips on his briefly. Mon-El could feel her smile as she cupped her cheeks, pulling back to look at his eyes. His heart stuttered in his chest when he saw the…the affection, and gratitude, and…and love filling her eyes, her fingers adoringly brushing his hair. She stared at him for one more second, watching as the corners of his lips tipped up, before turning to the tray next to the bed. “Now about that breakfast…” she started, earning a laugh from the Daxamite.

“Scoot over,” he told her. Kara kicked the blanket away to make space for him and propped up a pillow. She had a seemingly permanent smile plastered on her face as she watched him settle down. Mon-El glanced at her.

“You’re staring,” he pointed out. “Please don’t tell me I have flour on my face.” Kara’s smile widened at that as she shook her head.

“No, no, don’t worry. You’re as handsome as always.” One corner of Mon-El’s lips tipped up. “I was just thinking… I’ve never seen you this relaxed and—and smiling. Ever since we met.” Mon-El didn’t even bother trying to lie as he nodded, taking her hand into his.

“I’m… I’m happier than I’ve ever been for a long time.” He stared at their hands, trying to gather his words together, before he continued. He could feel a frown forming on his face. “I feel like I’m…finally free of my past. Like I can finally be happy.” He lifted her hand, pressing a kiss on her knuckles. “Thank you for giving me that. I don’t think I could’ve found happiness if it wasn’t for you.” _I couldn’t have been happy without you._ He turned his eyes at Kara, only to see a caring and understanding look in her eyes. She didn’t voice the words, yet Mon-El could see them in her eyes. _You make me happy too._

Flashing her a small smile the Daxamite grabbed the tray from the bedside table. “Now if you don’t want to be late to work, because you only have about twenty minutes left to leave, I’d suggest you get to eating.” Kara’s brows lifted as she placed the tray on her lap, taking in everything on it. Her eyes lingered on the smiley face made with eggs and bacon, and the heart-shaped toasts. She shot a glance toward Mon-El.

“I never knew a Daxamite prince could cook,” she teased, taking a bite from the toast. She moaned. “And cook _well_ ,” she added. Mon-El chuckled as he shrugged.

“Well, I’ve had some time to learn how to do it here. You can’t live your life on take-outs, right?” Kara’s face scrunched up at that as she played with one of the bacon strips.

“Well—“ she’d started, but before she could continue Mon-El’s phone vibrated his pocket. Sighing he took it out to see who sent the message.

_Dana._

He huffed as he opened the text messages, only to see her saying that there was a situation in the DEO that required his assistance. He debated for a second whether he should go, yet even before he came to a decision he knew the answer to that question. It would be irresponsible to ignore her text, no matter how much he might want to stay with Kara. It could be something serious—it probably was something serious.

“Let me guess,” Kara said when she saw the look on his face. “Valor related?” Mon-El could only nod as he quickly typed to Dana that he was on his way. He turned to Kara.

“Yeah, it’s—it’s my associate.” He hoped his regret and apology was audible in his voice. “I’m sorry, but I have to go. It sounds important.” Kara nodded immediately, putting her hand on his arm.

“Yeah, of course. You don’t need to apologize for that. I understand.” She flashed him a smile. “Go be a hero,” she urged him. Mon-El couldn’t help it as a smile spread on his face too, and he leaned down to put a small kiss on her lips.

“I’ll call you,” he promised her, stroking her hair softly. “As soon as I get this dealt with. Okay?”

“Okay,” Kara whispered, biting down on her lip. Mon-El didn’t take his eyes off of her as he got off the bed, and he only turned around when he was leaving. Still, he could feel her eyes on him.

“Hey, Mon-El?” she called out before he could go out. He turned around curiously. “Last night was amazing,” she told him, a playful grin on her face. “I just wanted you to know that before you left.”

Mon-El was sure, as he flew out of the window, that the smile on his face would be impossible to erase.

* * *

**_08:36_ **

Mon-El had landed on the DEO’s terrace with a thump, almost floating a couple of inches in the air as he walked inside. He was sure there was a silly jump in his steps and an idiotic grin on his face, yet he didn’t care. Not one bit. Finally he was happy again, he’d gotten back everything he ever wanted, why should he be hiding it?

He clapped his hands together to get Alex and Chris’s attention, who were standing in front of the latter’s computer. They looked up to watch him approach.

“Hostage situation taken care of,” he chirped, putting his hands on his waist. Alex’s brows shot up at that, as if the last thing she expected was for him to stroll into the DEO with a smile on his face and joy in his voice. “Oh, and Alex, I have something for you,” he continued, trying to ignore her shock, and took out the flower that he’d so carefully tucked inside his belt under his cape. “One of the hostages was apparently a florist, and she insisted I get this for saving her and her son. It’s magnolia.” He extended her hand forward to hand her the flower, yet all Alex did for a couple of seconds was to look at the flower, and then at Mon-El, and then back at the flower. Mon-El had lifted his brows by the time she last turned to him.

“Oookay,” she said with a nervous laughter as she took the magnolia from him. “You’re scaring me, Mon-El.” With that Chris shot her a weird look.

“Seriously, Alex?” he asked, spinning his chair to turn to her and Mon-El. “You’ve been complaining for the last two weeks about how horrible and sad he looked and how you didn’t know how to help him, and now he’s actually happy it’s _scary_?” That earned Chris a harsh glare from Alex, and Mon-El could see him pale visibly. He couldn’t help the smile forming on his face as Chris gulped.

“Shut up, Chris,” Alex muttered under her breath before turning to the Daxamite. She eyed him curiously. “But I’m gonna have to admit, you _do_ look all smiley-smiley today. Not that I’m complaining, but… What happened?” Mon-El shrugged at that, hoping it didn’t look as tense as it felt, before starting to speak. He’d debated, all the way here, whether he should tell Alex that he knew Kara, that he was _with_ her, and was even _training_ her to become a superhero. And then he wondered whether he should do the same with _Kara_ ; tell _her_ that her sister was one of the associates he always talked about, and she was working for the DEO, whose goal was to protect human life from extraterrestrial threats. At the end he’d opted for a no for either of those, thinking if the sisters wanted to tell each other they should do so in their own time. Honestly, he was surprised that none of them had found out about the other _or_ Mon-El yet, because normally they would never hide anything from each other.

But maybe things were different in this timeline, since Kara didn’t know Alex worked for the DEO at all, even though more than six years had passed since she started there.

“I’m… I’m happy,” Mon-El told Alex, choosing his words carefully. He glanced at the floor briefly to gather up his strength before he lifted his head and continued. “You were right.” Alex arched her brows and crossed her arms.

“I usually am. You’re gonna have to be a bit more specific than that.” Mon-El couldn’t help laughing at that as he nodded.

“About my friend. About talking to her and…and asking her what she wants.” He tried to shrug nonchalantly, as if it was not a big deal, yet he could still feel his heart pounding. “You were right when you said love wasn’t about deserving, but wanting each other and making each other happy.” Alex’s eyes widened at that, and the Daxamite could see a smile spreading on her face.

“You asked her out?” she said almost too excitedly. Mon-El was smiling too as he answered.

“Well, she tried to kiss me before I could do that, but…” He cleared his throat. “But basically… We’re together now.” _She’s with me now._ The thought made his chest bubble with happiness.

Alex chuckled at that as she lightly punched Mon-El in the arm. “See, I told you, didn’t I? Anyone would be lucky to have you.” She bounced on her heals excitedly. “So… When can I meet her?”

“I—“ Mon-El started, but his voice trailed off when he realized he didn’t have anything to say. _I’m surprised that you still don’t know about us,_ he couldn’t help thinking. “I don’t know,” he said finally. “I’ll ask her.” Alex’s face fell at that. She scowled.

“Seriously, Mon-El?” she asked, pointing at the two of them. “I thought we were friends.” Mon-El couldn’t help it as the corners of his lips tipped up, but before he could answer Chris interjected.

“Um, guys?” he said, spinning his chair around to face Alex and Mon-El. “Sorry to interrupt, but there’s an armed robbery going on at the moment in Celestial Bank Corp. You might wanna check that out, Mon-El.” Mon-El nodded curtly at that as he spared a glance at Alex.

“I’m on it,” he said before turning around to leave. He heard Alex calling for him.

“Hey, that’s not fair!” His smile turned into a grin at the annoyance in her words. “Can I at least get a name?” she asked. Mon-El looked over his shoulder at the agent, with her arms spread and one brow raised, before answering.

“In your dreams, Agent Danvers.”

* * *

**_16:51_ **

Mon-El greeted the couple of CatCo employees that was entering the elevator just as he was leaving, as he pressed the bouquet of roses over his chest so that the delicate flowers didn’t get crushed. The employees weren’t even surprised that he was there anymore; he’d come here to get Kara for a lunch date or after work too many times. Yet he could see one of them glancing at the roses and lifting his brows, and he also couldn’t help catching her words with his superhearing right before the elevator doors closed. “Does that mean he and Kara finally got together?”

A grin pulled his lips as he made his way to Kara’s office. He saw her working inside through the glass walls before he stopped in front of the door. He knocked on the door softly.

Kara’s eyes snapped up from her work almost immediately with the sound of knocking and her door being pushed open, and in a couple of seconds her fingers that were flying over the keyboard stopped too. “Hey,” Mon-El said with a smile on his face as he entered her office. An easy grin spread on Kara’s face too as he walked up to her, a grin mirroring his, and he couldn’t help it as his heart fluttered in his chest. He would never— _never—_ get tired of seeing Kara like this: Carefree, joyful, and…and happy. He’d never get tired of how her eyes lit up upon seeing him, how she effortlessly smiled with him around, how her laughs sounded a bit more frequent and joyful when she was with him…. He could go on and on, but it all came to the same conclusion: He absolutely loved seeing Kara happy, and moreover he loved being the one to make her happy. It was… It was more than he could ever ask for.

“Hey,” Kara greeted him as she pushed her keyboard away. Mon-El leaned down to press his lips on hers, missing her kiss even though it had been less than a day since he last saw her. If he had the chance, he would’ve definitely glued himself to her, never leaving her side. Kara reached up too to meet his kiss, and he could feel her smile on his lips. Not that he wasn’t smiling either, but still…

“I’ve missed you,” he whispered as he pulled back. She arched her brow as if in surprise, yet Mon-El could see a playful light in the blue of her eyes.

“You just saw me in the morning,” she pointed out as he straightened up. “Like, about nine hours ago.” Mon-El just shrugged at that as he tucked his empty hand in his pocket.

“Still. I missed you,” he stated, and his heart swelled when he heard Kara laugh at that. Smiling at her reaction, he extended the roses to her. “By the way, these are, uh, for you.”

The blush that crept up Kara’s cheeks and the way the corners of her lips curled was worth every penny he spent for the roses—and roses _were_ expensive, as he was reminded. But he’d also found out that his job at the DEO was paying him much more than he got when he was a critic when he looked at his bank account—enough to make his eyes go wide—so it wasn’t like the money for the roses proved to be much of a problem. Besides, he’d pay everything he had to see Kara smile, especially since…since he knew what it felt like to _not_ see it.

“I’ve never knew a Daxamite could be this romantic,” she teased him as she took the flowers from Mon-El’s hand. “At this rate, I’m gonna run out of place to put the flowers you bring me.” Mon-El followed her gaze as they flickered to the two vases resting atop her table, one holding lilies and the other carnations. The ones he’d brought her previously. A smile fought its way to his lips even as he tried to shrug nonchalantly.

“What can I say? I’m just trying to make my girlfriend smile.” The word rolled off of his tongue almost too easily, yet he still checked Kara’s eyes when they snapped at him, to make sure it was okay. She seemed surprised at first, like she didn’t expect him to address her as his girlfriend, yet her face slowly split into a huge grin. She tried to play it off by clearing her throat.

“Well, trust me when I say this; you’re doing a really good job about that.” She’d just pressed the flowers to her chest and smiled at Mon-El when her door opened. Both of them turned to it. Mon-El felt his heart clench with pain when he saw who came, and he had to force his face into a blank look to suppress his grimace.

“Hey, Kara, I’m—“ Winn’s voice trailed off the moment his eyes met with Mon-El’s, and he came to an abrupt stop with one leg inside Kara’s office and the other outside. Mon-El could almost see the light in his eyes dissipate, and how his smile turned into a forced one, and it took everything in the Daxamite not to apologize. He still turned his eyes to the floor as guilt churned in his stomach.

He didn’t want to hurt Winn. The man… The man had been his best friend ever since he came on earth, the first person to not care about the fact that he was a Daxamite and accepted him fully. Seeing him like this now…getting hurt because Mon-El was dating the person he loved… It hurt Mon-El too. Yet he couldn’t do anything as he saw Kara smile at Winn from the corner of his eyes.

“Winn!” she exclaimed. “Hey, come in. Don’t stand there like that.” She gestured him to come before her eyes flickered to the table top, reaching for the only empty vase sitting in the corner. Winn closed the door behind him as he stepped in awkwardly, staying as far away from Mon-El as possible. His gaze traveled on the Daxamite before turning back to Kara. There was no mistaking the way his shoulders slumped.

“I didn’t know you had a visitor,” he told her, trying to keep his voice normal. Kara looked up at that, the vase in her one hand and the flowers in the other.

“Oh,” she said as her eyes went back and forth between Mon-El and Winn. Despite the situation a small smile found its way to Mon-El’s lips at the flustered look on her face. “Right, of course. Winn, you remember Mike.” She put aside the roses and the vase to walk around the table, looking up at the Daxamite with hesitation before she slipped her hand into his. He felt his heart skip with the confidence and ease behind that action, as if she was completely comfortable with showing people that they were together…before his eyes found Winn’s and the way he was looking at their joined hands. Mon-El had to straighten up as Kara continued, completely oblivious to the heartbreak in Winn’s eyes. “We’re, uh, we’re together now.”

“That… Yeah, I—I can see that,” Winn said with a nod. Mon-El wondered for a brief moment whether Kara could feel the tension in the air like he did, or see how fake Winn’s smile was as he looked at them. “I’m happy for you two.”

Mon-El hoped his smile didn’t look as sour and fake as it felt. “Thanks,” he whispered as he squeezed Kara’s hand, trying to ignore the way Winn averted his gaze. The Kryptonian frowned at Winn at his reaction.

“Hey, Winn, are you okay?” she asked, concern evident in his voice. Mon-El bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from answering. _He loves you, Kara. What do you think?_

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” Winn lied immediately, shaking his head. A nervous laugh left his lips. “I was just… Never mind. Not important. Have a… Have a nice date, Kara. And nice to meet you…again…Mike.” Before Kara or Mon-El could do anything he pushed open the door and stumbled out, leaving them behind.

Mon-El could feel Kara’s confused look follow Winn before she blinked and shook her head. “Okay, that was awkward,” she muttered under her breath before turning to Mon-El. “He used to be a lot more…cheerier than that.”

_Tell me about it._

“I’m sure…” Mon-El started before clearing his throat, the lie feeling sour on his lips. “I’m sure he’s just worried about you. You told me he was your best friend, right?” Kara nodded, even though she didn’t seem so sure.

“Right, yeah.” She turned to him then, her smile back on her face. “Anyway, should we go before we’re late for the, um, _training_?” Mon-El watched her jump a little on the balls of her feet, her eyes filling with excitement, and he couldn’t help smiling too. He nodded.

“Yes, we should, but before that…” He eyed the spot Winn disappeared before looking back at the Kryptonian. “Remember when you mentioned if you were going to be a superhero, you’d need a suit too?” He made sure to keep his voice as low as possible so that no passerby heard him. Surprise filled Kara’s eyes at his words.

“Yeah?” she said, almost afraid to hear the answer. Mon-El knew she’d just mentioned the suit as a joke, since they only trained twice until then, yet seeing the hopeful look on her face… He knew he’d made the right call when he made his decision that morning. When he decided that slowly, he’d start building himself a life here.

“Well, I know someone who can make you one, if you’re willing of course.”

* * *

**_19:24_ **

Kara pulled on the hem of her shirt for the third time that night, wrapping it around her fingers and releasing it, seemingly not being able to keep her hands straight. It was the third time he’d done that…after clasping and unclasping her hands, tucking her hair behind her ear, and crossing and uncrossing her arms. Mon-El finally reached forward, wrapping his arms around Kara’s waist and grabbing her wrists gently.

“Hey,” he whispered to her ear, making her look up at him. “It’s gonna be alright.” Kara scoffed at that, yet she still let Mon-El hold her hands, pulled on his arms and tightened his grip around her waist.

“Of course you say that,” she grunted. “You’re obligated to say that and comfort me as my boyfriend.” A smile pulled Mon-El’s lips as he realized once again he’d never get tired of Kara calling him her boyfriend. He shook his head.

“That’s… That might be true, yes…” A victorious grin appeared on Kara’s face, which Mon-El chose to ignore as he continued. “But this time I’m being honest. Winn is not gonna hate you because you’re an alien, Kara. He lo— You’re his best friend.” He quickly corrected himself before he let that information slip.

Kara watched his face for a moment, nibbling with her bottom lip, before she sighed. “I _know_ that,” she said, turning to the rooftop of Winn’s apartment. “But aliens aren’t really _loved_ , Mon-El. You and…and Superman are exceptions.”

“Well, then it’s a good thing I’ll be right there with you, right?” Mon-El asked jokingly, earning a glare from Kara. He chuckled. “I’m just joking. Hey.” He stepped forward to take the Kryptonian’s face in his hands, making sure she was looking right into his eyes. He could see the worry in hers. “Kara, Winn cares about you, okay? He’s not gonna stop that just because you’re an alien. He knows who you are inside, and that’s what will matter to him.” He flashed her a smile. “Besides, as far as I could find about him, he’s a big sci-fi fan. Especially Star Wars. He’s gonna love it.” Kara rolled her eyes at that, yet a smile had spread on her lips too, mirroring his.

When Mon-El told her that Winn was the person that could make her the suit, Kara was taken aback…for good reason too. She didn’t want to tell Winn that she was an alien, and…and she didn’t know that Winn was the one that made her suit in the original timeline. And she also wondered how exactly Mon-El knew about Winn, or that he could make a suit. He couldn’t say anything to that at first, as telling her Winn had been his best friend in another life would complicate things in an unnecessary way. At the end he was forced to say that he’d looked into Winn and his career.

Kara hadn’t been happy about that. Not at all. According to her, it was too much like stalking…which wasn’t a lie, but still. It took a lot of apologizing, telling her that he just wanted to look out for her and make sure Winn wasn’t some sort of an alien hater for her to finally forgive him. Still, Mon-El was sure she’d use that as an excuse to tease him every now and then.

“Easy for you to say,” she muttered under her breath as she looked at the rooftop. “I just… I don’t want to lose him, Mon-El. He’s been my friend for too long.”

“You won’t,” Mon-El reassured her, confidence in his voice. He spotted Winn walking to the rooftop, his brows furrowed in confusion, from the corner of his eyes. From the way Kara’s shoulders tensed under his hands, he knew that she noticed him too. He turned to her softly. “But as I told you, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

Kara shook her head seconds later, determination filling her eyes. “No. No, you’re right,” she said as her phone buzzed in her hand. Mon-El saw that it was a message from Winn, saying that he’d gone on the rooftop. Kara watched him as he lifted his head from his phone and looked around, actually making a circle, his eyes filling with even _more_ confusion. She took a deep breath. “I’ll tell him. And he’ll accept me for who I am. Besides… Besides if he doesn’t, he shouldn’t really be my friend, right? If he can’t accept me for who I am?” Mon-El flashed her a smile and squeezed her shoulder.

“That’s the spirit,” he said to encourage her. “And at any case, I’ll be right beside you. I got your back.” Kara smiled back at him, and even though it seemed tight, from her eyes the Daxamite could see that it was genuine. She nodded before she straightened up her shoulders.

“Here we go.” She bent her knees slightly before shooting into the air, the wind pushing her hair away from her face. Mon-El watched her, with awe, as she turned herself around in the air before landing right behind Winn. She was really getting a hang of this flying thing, certainly faster than he’d learnt it, and he couldn’t help feeling proud.

At least until he saw Winn spin around with the thump Kara made. Mon-El couldn’t see his eyes from his point of view, as his back was to him, yet he could almost feel his shock.

“Hey, Winn,” he heard Kara say from his earpiece. They’d decided that it would be a better idea if Kara talked to Winn first, before he showed up, and since he didn’t have Kara’s superhearing they’d opted for using comms so that she could signal him to come. Mon-El saw Kara’s eyes flicker up to his direction briefly, and he offered her a smile before she turned away. She had a smile on her face too.

“I know this is gonna sound crazy…” she said as she took a step forward, her hands extended in front of her. “But… But I need you to listen to me before you say anything.” She inhaled deeply, her eyes traveling on Winn, before she continued. “Because I’m about to tell you something about me that…that only four people in my life know.” She ran her fingers through her hair and waited as Winn talked. At least Mon-El presumed he was talking since he made weird gestures in the air with his hands, and he looked up twice in the air to where Kara had come from. Her laugh rang in his ears a couple of seconds later.

“Yeah, I… I can fly. And I can… I have super strength, and I’m fast, and… And I can do a bunch of other things. My point is… I’m—I’m an alien, Winn.” She threw her hands up and laughed at that. “I’m an alien. I’ve… I’ve run from it for most of my life, I’ve tried to be normal, but…but recently someone helped me embrace it…who I _am_ …a couple of days ago, and…and I don’t want to stop.” The corners of Mon-El’s lips tipped up at her excitement and freedom, as if…as if she was 100% proud with what she was saying, she was more than proud but she was also happy about it. Happy about being an alien, being Kryptonian, like she’d never been.

“Yeah, I am,” she nodded in response to something Winn said, before her face slowly split into a huge grin. Mon-El saw the reason for it shortly after as Winn turned around, a laugh on his lips. “Yes, exactly like Superman and Valor.”

Mon-El could almost imagine what Winn would say to that. _That’s so cool._

His gaze met with Kara’s when he turned to her, and he saw her gesture him to come. Straightening up his cape he got ready to fly, listening to her words.

“Actually, talking about Valor… There’s someone I need you to meet.” Winn didn’t even have time to be confused before Mon-El landed behind him this time, making him whirl around. His cape fluttered behind him for a couple of seconds before it settled down, and he looked up to see Winn gaping, his eyes wide and his mouth dropped open. He looked over Mon-El, blinking several times. The Daxamite couldn’t help grinning.

“Winn Schott Jr.,” he said as he walked up to Winn. Kara took her place next to him shortly. He extended his hand. “Nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you from Kara.” Winn’s eyes flickered back and forth between Mon-El and Kara.

“Valor heard about me?” he asked, his voice almost shaking. “You talked to Valor about me? Valor…knows me?” Kara laughed at his reaction as she stepped forward, putting one hand on his shoulder.

“Winn. Breathe. It’s just…” Her eyes flickered to Mon-El. “It’s just Valor. Just…my boyfriend.” Her hand slipped down Mon-El’s arm and grabbed his hand, and the Daxamite squeezed it quickly, encouraging her. Winn’s eyes felt like they would bulge out of their sockets and fall down any second now.

“Wait, you’re dating… But I thought…” He almost froze as he put the pieces together. “You’re Mike Matthews,” he gasped. Mon-El shrugged at that and nodded.

“Yeah, but I’m called Mon-El where I come from. Mike is just my human name.” He finally shook Winn’s hand when the man grabbed it almost absentmindedly. “Again, nice to meet you.” Winn blinked again before he nodded, gulping, straightening up as if he tried to seem cool.

“Yeah, nice…nice to meet you too. Valor. Mike. Mon-El.” He took a deep breath. “I just… I’m not dreaming, right?” he asked Kara. “This is not… This is not a dream.” The Kryptonian laughed at that as she shook her head, a caring look in her eyes.

“No, you’re not. He’s very much real.” She patted Mon-El on the shoulder at that before her face turned serious. “But the reason I called you here wasn’t just so that you could fanboy over him.” Mon-El had to press his lips together to keep himself from laughing at that. Winn shot Kara a glare for her word choice…not that she was wrong, Mon-El had to admit, but still… “We need something from you,” Kara continued.

“You need…” Winn started, his voice trailed off. “You need something…from me?” He pointed at himself with disbelief. Mon-El nodded.

“Yeah,” he said with a smile, and then glanced at Kara. He squeezed her hand again. “We need you to design a suit for Kara.”


	18. Reveal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so so sorry for the delay y'all, I was planning to post this yesterday, but as I recently found out, managing three multichapter fics at the same time is really, really HARD. But anyway, I hope you forgive me for the lateness of this, and I really hope that you like it, because I'm gonna be honest, it is one of my fave chapters :)

**13 th of April, 2022**

**_13:06_ **

Mon-El saw the punch coming to his face, almost in slow motion, a second before it connected with his jaw, managing to duck and avoid it at the last second. He jumped to his left, blocking another punch, before kneeling down, readying himself to kick Kara off of her feet. He’d just aimed his kick behind Kara’s knees when she jumped, using her flight ability to propel herself up before landing a couple of feet away. She flashed Mon-El a smile as she pushed her hair away from her face, one that almost took Mon-El’s breath away and made his heart skip a beat, before she rushed on him.

He barely managed to avoid Kara by throwing himself to the side, cursing himself for getting distracted by her beauty. And not even yesterday he was the one scolding her for letting his touch distract her when she complained about not being able to focus when he put his hands on her waist like that.

He just hoped Kara didn’t notice his momentary slip in focus. But of course, it was _Kara_ he was talking about.

“Distracted, _Valor_?” she asked as Mon-El rolled onto his back, pushing himself off of the ground. He snorted as he dusted off his suit.

“ _No_ ,” he said as he watched Kara cross her arms and arch her brows. “I was just…testing myself. See how fast I can get out of your way.” Her only response was laughing at his words and shaking her head. She lifted her hands in defeat, amusement twinkling in the blue of her eyes. Mon-El couldn’t help a smile from forming on his lips.

“Whatever you say.” With that she pushed back her cape from her shoulder, giving herself some room, and then lunged on the Daxamite yet again.

Winn had managed to finish Kara’s suit the previous day, and with the excitement of it, he’d brought it to Kara’s house at 9 a.m. in the morning—on a _Saturday._ Waking up both Mon-El and Kara.

The Daxamite still remembered the look of shock on Winn’s when he was the one that opened the door instead of the Kryptonian. He had to be the one to stand up, because the moment the door rang Kara had groaned, pulled his pillow from underneath him and covered her head with it, muttering to him to open the door in a muffled voice. At first Mon-El had thought to complain, but she looked so cute like that, sprawled on the bed like an eagle, that he didn’t have it in him. Instead he just pressed a kiss on her shoulder, pushed himself off of the bed and opened the door…forgetting that he was half naked and the only thing on him was his boxers.

No wonder Winn’s mouth had dropped as he jumped back, slamming his hand over his eyes. “I did not see that. I did _not_ just see that,” he was muttering under his breath, as if repeatedly saying it would make it true.

That was probably why it took all three of them a bit of time to pull themselves together and sit around Kara’s table, Mon-El and Kara on one side and Winn across from them. While a knock on the door hadn’t been enough to get her out of the bed, the mention of her suit definitely _was_ , and she sat up so fast that the blanket over her almost got ripped in the middle. She was as excited about seeing the suit as Winn was about giving it.

Not that Mon-El wasn’t excited too. Especially to see her in that suit, so, so familiar to him, once again after a year. There were of course a couple of differences here and there, some things that Kara wanted differently than the suit Mon-El remembered, yet from the blue top and red skirt, from sheer tights and the red cape, and of course the symbol of House of El symbol over the chest… She looked just like the hero he remembered. She looked like the hero she _was_. And the way she’d smiled in the suit, the way she’d taken off her glasses and looked at him, asking how she looked…

Mon-El had to admit that he’d been speechless, staring at her with his mouth open, and he was also sure Kara would tease him about it for a long time. Especially since she claimed he’d drooled, even though he was pretty sure that wasn’t the case. _Pretty_ sure.

“What are you smiling at?” Kara asked as she blocked one of Mon-El’s punches, sliding back a couple of steps but keeping her balance easily. Mon-El shrugged, flipping his cape over his shoulder.

“Nothing,” he lied, ducking under Kara’s arm before grabbing ahold of her shoulder, trying to pull her to the ground. She twisted out of his grip with a bit of work—she was certainly getting better at that—before she landed a kick behind his leg, missing the most sensitive spot with a couple of inches. It threw Mon-El off balance for a second, yet he still managed to fly into the air to avoid a punch into the gut. He landed behind Kara.

“I was just thinking that you look good in the suit,” he said with a shrug as she whirled around to face him. His smile widened when she shot him an annoyed look.

“Only you, Mon-El of Daxam,” she started as she ran to him, readying a punch, “would try to flirt with a girl,” Mon-El blocked her punch with his hand and twisted her arm behind her, “in the middle of a fight,” she finished her words as she pushed back on him, getting close enough to free her arm from him and turn around. Her eyes were shimmering with a silent laugh as she lifted her chin and crossed her arms. “I escaped your grip,” she said proudly. Mon-El found himself flashing a smile at her, nodding.

“You did,” he admitted as he knelt down, reaching for a football ball sized rock he’d been eyeing for a couple of minutes now. “Told you you could do it, all you had to do was trust yourself.” His fingers wrapped around the rock, getting ready to throw it into the air. The corners of Kara’s lips tipped up with happiness, at least until Mon-El stood up and flung his arm, watching the rock fly. “Heat-vision!” he told Kara, turning her eyes briefly to her as she turned to the rock. He saw her eyes narrow, shining red, before two beams of laser shot from them, hitting the rock in the middle and shattering it into pieces as small as dust. There was nothing that could erase the grin from Mon-El’s face then.

“That was dead on,” he said, just as Kara muttered under her breath, “I hit it.” She turned her gaze to Mon-El, her eyes wide, shining even brighter than the sun that was shining above them.

“Did you see that?” she asked him, skipping next to him and pointing at the sky, where the rock had been a couple of moments ago. “I hit it! I didn’t miss it.”

“Yeah,” Mon-El nodded, wrapping his arm around her waist to pull her close. “You know, you really are getting better at this every day.”

“Yeah?” Kara asked, so hopeful, so…so carefree that the Daxamite couldn’t help himself as he leaned down, putting a kiss on her lips.

“Yeah.” He stared at her eyes, the comet-like blue of them, so bright, so free, so…so fresh that he couldn’t help it as his heart stuttered. Of course he knew how beautiful Kara’s eyes were; they were one of the things Mon-El loved to see any time of the day, yet…yet sometimes, when the sun shone just at the right angle, when Kara tilted her head just the right way to look at his eyes… It took his breath away. He felt so lucky—so damn lucky—to be able to stare at her eyes without needing to hide it, to be able to hold her close, to be able to reach up and twirl a strand of her hair between her fingers, and stroke her cheek, and—

He was so distracted with Kara that he jumped when he heard his comms getting activated and Dana’s voice filling his ears.

“Valor? You there?” Kara must’ve heard the voice too, because she pulled back and straightened up, blinking to pull her focus together and frowning at Mon-El. With a sigh he turned his attention to Dana, trying to forget the way Kara’s hair shone under the sun, as if it wasn’t hair but liquid gold.

“Yes, Dana?” he sighed, glancing to see Kara’s reaction at the name. Her brows shot up at first, but then a smile slowly spread on her face when she realized the meaning behind it: That Mon-El trusted her enough to disclose the name of his associates. He flashed her a smile back before focusing back on Dana.

“There’s an alien attack going on in downtown National City. It seems like three aliens have broken into a bank. We need you there.” Mon-El nodded with her words, a frown forming between his brows.

“I’m on it,” he promised as he watched Kara walk towards him, an excited look in her eyes. He arched his brow as he turned off his comms for a while.

“Can I join you?” she asked, clasping her hands together in front of her and rocking back on the balls of her feet. “So we can get ‘em together.” Mon-El blinked at her request at first, his heart skipping a beat, remembering all those days that they worked together, going out and saving the city, and the corners of his lips tipped up as he prepared to say yes…

Until he remembered that this wasn’t the original timeline, and in this timeline, Alex didn’t know about him and Kara. She didn’t know he was training her little sister to be—to be a superhero, even though Kara had a suit now. And _Kara_ didn’t know that her sister was working for the DEO, an organization built to protect human life from extraterrestrial threats. She didn’t know Alex joined there to protect her. And… And Kara and Alex finding out about each other like this… It wouldn’t be pretty. The last thing Mon-El wanted was to get between the sisters. He would need to tell them of course, soon, but… But he wanted to do it on his own time, sitting both of them down in front of him and tell them everything.

And he would do it. But now he had three aliens to deal with.

“Maybe…” he started, his shoulders slumping when he saw Kara’s smile disappear. “Maybe next time, okay?” He put his hands on her arms, squeezing them to encourage her. Kara furrowed her brows, shaking her head.

“But… But why?” she asked, confusing flickering in her eyes. “I thought you said I was getting better. And I… I think I’m ready for this. I can help you, Mon-El. We’re talking about _three aliens_.”

“I know,” Mon-El said, stroking her hair. “I know you’re ready, but…but trust me with this, okay? Just… Just this time. Please?” He stared into her eyes, trying to tell him that he wasn’t saying no to her because he thought she wasn’t ready. It took a couple of seconds for Kara to answer, but then she sighed and nodded.

“Okay, fine. Fine, I trust you.” She stepped back, letting him have his space. “But… But be careful, okay? I don’t want you to, um, to get hurt.” She tucked her hair behind her ear nervously, and Mon-El could see genuine concern in her eyes. He flashed her a reassuring smile and nodded.

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.” And with that, after looking at her for one more second, he pushed off the ground and set his course to downtown National City.

* * *

**_13:31_ **

Mon-El landed on the street right on time to see the three aliens blow away what was left from the bank’s door and step out, three huge duffel bags in their hands, as well as three guns that were as non-human as anything could get. He crossed his arms when he saw them, and surely enough, the one in the front froze when he spotted Mon-El, causing the others to crash into him. The Daxamite immediately recognized their race from their blue skin and spiny hair. Cruysilks.

“I think you have something that does not belong to you,” he told them, pointing at the duffel bags with his head, before the one that seemed like their leader answered, clenching his teeth.

“Valor,” he hissed before he lifted his hand, preparing to shoot Mon-El. He quickly jumped to the side, avoiding the blast that went and hit a car—fortunately empty—creating a huge hole into it. Mon-El wasted only one second looking at the damage before he turned to the aliens, lunging on them without missing a beat. He grabbed the first alien’s gun, crushing the barrel beneath his fingers and twisting it around. He heard the telltale crack that let him know that the alien’s arm was broken—though his scream would be enough to indicate that too. Mon-El spun around, landing a kick on the side of his face and send him flying to the side, a couple of feet away from the group, landing unconscious.

Yet because Mon-El was paying attention to see whether he was knocked out or not, he didn’t see the other aliens attacking him until the last second. He could barely avoid the barrel of the gun that passed right over his head, yet still a kick landed on his side, sending him stumbling to the side. Before he could regain his balance he heard the gunshot, and the white light that hit the car a couple of minutes ago hit him in the chest this time, sending him flying back. He crashed into a wall and fell down.

He felt glad that the blast didn’t do anything more than that.

He was just getting ready to jump to his feet when he notices a red and blue blur in the sky, coming their way, landing between him and the aliens. It didn’t take him more than a millisecond to recognize who it was, for there was only one other person in National City with a suit and golden hair like that.

Supergirl. _Kara._ She’d come.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Kara muttered under her breath to one of the aliens, and Mon-El could almost feel her aim her heat vision to him and shoot him in the chest. The blast knocked the alien down almost immediately, sending him at least thirty feet away.

Mon-El managed to slip out of his thoughts and shock at that and rushed forward, punching the remaining of the aliens in the face before it could attack Kara. The alien staggered back a step, yet managed to keep its balance.

“What are you doing here?” he couldn’t help yelling at Kara as she ducked a blast from the alien’s gun. Kara’s blue eyes, burning with determination and strength, flickered to him briefly before she turned her attention back to their opponent. “I told you to stay away!”

“I came to help you!” Kara objected, kicking the alien’s legs at just the right spot to send it to the ground, screaming in pain. “We’re talking about three aliens, Mo— Valor!” She kicked away the alien’s gun, yet her punch missed its head when the alien scrambled back and jumped to its feet. It was faster than Mon-El had imagined, or that was what he’d thought since he was distracted by Kara. He turned to her, spreading his arms.

“I could’ve handled it myself!” he argued, watching Kara lift her brows and open her mouth to object, before her eyes flickered up. She immediately shot her heat vision, even startling Mon-El for a second before he whirled around to see pieces of a car door scatter around. Before he could do anything Kara rushed to the alien that threw the car door and punched it right on the chin again, knocking it out this time.

The whole world went silent around them for a second as Kara lifted her head, flipping her hair over her shoulder and turned around. She shot Mon-El an annoyed gaze as she crossed her arms.

“Your point was?”

Mon-El would be lying if he said she didn’t look so powerfully hot like that, her hair flowing around her head, a rubble from the car door stuck between the strands, and her cape falling down until her knees on her back. She looked exactly like how he remembered she looked after a fight—like a hero. A true hero. Well, maybe a bit more pissed than normally, but still…

Yet that did not change the fact that Alex was going to kill him for this. She would kill both of them when she found out; there was no doubt in Mon-El’s mind. He mentally face-palmed himself.

“I was just…” he tried to explain, struggling to find the right words, as he walked up to her. He gave up after a few seconds when he saw Kara’s gaze searing through him. He sighed. “Fine. You were right. I should’ve let you come.” A smug smirk appeared on the Kryptonian’s face as she jutted out her chin proudly.

“Thank you for accepting that,” she said, making Mon-El roll his eyes. Her features softened after that. “Now are we… Are we leaving, or…”

At first, the Daxamite was about to say yes—which probably would’ve been the smarter choice. They should go away before the police come, before people started taking videos of them, before people started to ask questions. That was what he did, right? Come, stop the bad guys, and then leave before talking to anyone. Well, that was what he’d been doing for the last year, after her loss. But before that… Before that he remembered staying back to talk to the press, to children, to civilians, giving them hope and love and protection, listening to their gratitude…being a hero. He also remembered how it felt when he first went out into the field in his suit with Kara, and how she told him to wait a little when he got prepared to leave, and showed him the people gathered around the scene, clapping, cheering, gratitude shining in their eyes. He knew how good and empowering it’d felt, how…how proud he felt of himself for being able help to these people. For protecting them when they couldn’t protect themselves.

He stopped Kara from leaving by holding her arm when he noticed a couple of people leaving a nearby shop, looking around at the street. “Let’s wait a little bit,” he told her, a smile playing in his eyes, Alex long forgotten with the excitement of the situation. He felt his heart stuttered as he pulled Kara to the center of the street. “I want to show you something.” Kara seemed confused at first, at least until… At least until she heard someone start clapping. She heard a couple of someones start clapping.

The corners of Mon-El’s lips tipped up as surprise washed over Kara, and she turned around, looking at the people around them. She watched them as they all started clapping the superheroes, gratitude shining in their eyes and smiles adorning their faces. Mon-El even spotted a couple of children pointing at them, telling their parents about it, how he and Kara were superheroes, and parents agreeing and nodding with a laugh. A bubble of happiness filled his chest as he turned back to Kara to see _her_ reaction.

Her eyes were filled with so much awe and shock that it was hard to believe. She was looking around at everyone’s faces, studying them, her eyes slowly filling with tears as she slid her hand into Mon-El’s, holding it tightly. Mon-El squeezed her hand to offer her his support, yet he didn’t say anything, knowing this was her time to shine. And she deserved to experience this alone.

Kara’s eyes were shining so bright, her face filled with such happiness when she turned to Mon-El that he found himself smiling too. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotions and unshed tears. Once again the Daxamite couldn’t help thinking how blue and how beautiful—like _comets_ —her eyes looked with a curtain of tears over them. “Thank you fo-for this.”

Mon-El flashed her a genuine smile as he nodded. “It’s been my pleasure,” he said, his gaze searching hers, “Supergirl.”

* * *

**_15:49_ **

A smile was plastered on Mon-El’s face as he grabbed two cartoons of ice cream and two spoons from the kitchen, kicking the refrigerator door close with the back of his feet before returning to Kara’s side, who was sitting on the couch with her legs snuggled under a blanket. She flashed him a smile, which seemed like it would never disappear, as she grabbed one of the ice cream cartoons.

“Thank you,” she muttered, scooting to the front so that Mon-El could sit behind her. He immediately wrapped his arms around her waist to pull her close, resting her back on his chest, letting her put her head on his shoulder. His heart swelled with happiness as Kara giggled.

“You seem happy,” Mon-El mumbled into her ear, resting his chin on her shoulder. She snuggled to the crook of his neck.

“I am,” she admitted, dropping her hand on his and locking their fingers together. “I finally feel like…like myself. Like I don’t have to hold back anything anymore.” Her brows knitted as she looked up at him. “Is that… Is that weird?”

Mon-El shook his head without even hesitating, pressing his lips on hers in a short but sweet kiss. He could feel her smiling into it, her muscles completely relaxed and comfortable under his embrace, so much so that he couldn’t help it either when the corners of his lips tipped up. Kara only pulled away when a voice from the television distracted her.

“Oh, oh, oh!” she exclaimed almost too excitedly, squeezing Mon-El’s arm and turning to the screen. “It’s the news!” The Daxamite grinned at her enthusiasm as she straightened up, her hands clasped around the ice cream cartoon, watching the news with full attention. And surely, it didn’t take too long for the title to show up in the screen, making Kara’s smile widen.

_A new superhero in National City._

“See,” Mon-El said as he leaned forward, watching the joy in Kara’s eyes, “that’s you.” The Kryptonian nodded, seemingly seconds away from squealing. They both watched the shaky footage—presumably taken with someone’s phone—of Kara landing on the street, right in front of the two aliens. The camera shook a bit when she hit one alien with her heat vision, yet still she could be seen there, her hair flowing around her, her cape swishing behind, just like…just like a hero.

A woman appeared a couple of seconds after that, standing in front of the crime scene. “Thank you, Rick,” the brunette woman started. “Well, it seems like National City isn’t lacking in the superhero department. The footage you’ve seen is from a couple of hours earlier, in downtown National City, where Valor and a mysterious new superhero stopped an alien attack and apprehended the criminals.” A smile appeared on the woman’s face as she flipped her hair over her shoulder. “It seems like both National City and Valor has a guardian angel protecting them.” Kara froze at that, her eyes widening, before a huge grin spread on her face.

“See!” she almost squealed, turning to Mon-El and pointing at the screen. “See, they think I’m your guardian angel. They think I protect you.” The Daxamite found himself laughing at her joyful expression as he nodded, squeezing her waist encouragingly.

“It seems like it, _Supergirl_ ,” he teased her with an arched brow. Her smile dissipated at that as she scowled.

“I told you, Mon-El,” she said, hitting him on the chest, “we are _not_ calling me that. It’s… It’s too childish! It’s like—like minimizing the importance of this. Besides, _you_ have a cool name that _you_ chose. Shouldn’t I get to pick mine too?” One corner of Mon-El’s lips tipped up at that, and he reached up to tuck a strand of Kara’s hair behind her ear, a rebellious strand that escaped her messy bun.

“That’s true, but… But I think Supergirl fits you. It shows that girls can be powerful, and strong, and independent, and can look after themselves and kick ass. It shows that there’s nothing wrong or demeaning of being a girl, and I think that can inspire a lot of people.” He cleared his throat as he remembered how he’d acted, in this timeline, when he first became a superhero. As far as he could see he was nothing like an ideal superhero. He’d failed at inspiring people. But Kara… Kara could do that. He knew, with all his heart, that she could inspire people, especially girls, to be the best version of themselves. “Besides, calling you Supergirl would make you reachable for little children. It would make you one of them, not just an ideal to look up to but also someone that they could become. And I think that’s important.” He tried to shrug nonchalantly at the end, yet he could see Kara’s eyes shining. She reached up to cup his cheeks, her fingers brushing the ends of her hair, and pressed a kiss on his lips.

“You always know exactly what to say, don’t you?” she muttered under her breath, resting her forehead against his. Mon-El tightened his grip around her waist as he lightly chuckled.

“Yeah, I do.” He felt, more than saw, a smile spreading on Kara’s lips. At least a very, very familiar voice caused them to jump and pull back from each other almost immediately.

“Well, I wouldn’t say _always_. More like when it fits him.” Kara scrambled away from Mon-El, putting her hands on his chest to push herself up. Mon-El couldn’t even look behind, not wanting to see the person there. He closed his eyes as his heart plummeted in his chest, wanting to hit himself in the head for not thinking about this sooner. Because… Because _of course_ she would find out about Kara and him. Of course she would see the footage of them fighting the three aliens and connect the dots. He’d forgotten it with the elation Kara was feeling and a rush of happiness coursing through his veins for seeing her like that, but that was no excuse. He should’ve told her. He should’ve told both _her_ and _Kara._

“Alex!” Kara exclaimed as she quickly threw her legs down from the side of the couch and stood up. Mon-El could see the worry flickering in her eyes as she tried to straighten up her pajamas, glancing at him. All he could do was look back, fear knotting his throat, coming face to face with an absolutely _furious_ Alex with her hazel eyes filled with fire and her arms crossed over her chest.

“What are you…” Kara tried to say, a nervous laughter leaving her lips as she clasped her hands in front of her. She gestured Mon-El to stand up as discreetly as possible. “What are you doing here?”

Slowly Mon-El lifted himself off of the couch and stood in front of Kara, his eyes trained to Alex’s feet. He didn’t think he could look up at her eyes. He’d messed up—badly. He knew _damn well_ that he had to tell Alex what was going on between her and Kara at the very least. First he’d put it off, using the timeline change as an excuse and telling himself that once he restored time it wouldn’t matter. Then… Then after getting together with Kara, after realizing he might not need to change time after all, he’d waited _her_ to tell Alex. He thought it would be better if she learned from her sister. Yet… Yet that was just another excuse, wasn’t it? Another excuse to keep what he had with Kara, to not _lose_ her. He’d been so fixated on finally having her back, finally feeling happy and content, that he couldn’t tell Alex, he couldn’t risk losing that all over again.

And now… Now it seemed like that might be very well happening, and… He didn’t even know how to feel about that. He didn’t want to know that, yet from the way his heart had started to slam against his ribs…the way his palms felt sweaty… He could imagine what it would be like.

“What am _I_ doing here?” Alex asked incredulously, pointing at herself. Her eyes turned to Mon-El. “Well, I could ask the same thing to him, right, Mon-El? Or should I call you Valor?” The Daxamite couldn’t help wincing at that as Kara stepped forward, in front of him.

“Hey, don’t talk to him like that,” she argued, her voice sharp. Alex didn’t even seem like she heard her words as she turned to the Kryptonian, her eyes spewing fire.

“And you!” she yelled, spreading her arms. “ _What_ were you thinking?” Mon-El could feel Kara’s confusion at that, even though he couldn’t see her face. She shook her head as Alex continued. “You exposed yourself to the world,” she said, taking a step forward and pointing at the television, which was showing a repeat of the footage of Mon-El and Kara’s fight with the aliens. “You’re out there now, Kara. E-Everyone will know about you, and you can’t take that back!”

“Alex,” Kara said softly, trying to reach for her sister, but something in Alex’s eyes stopped her. “I don’t want to take that back.” She took the remote control of the television and stopped the footage, right at where the crowd started cheering for her. “This is… This is what I want. I’ve always felt the need to help people and…and today, with Valor, I finally got that chance. That was why I was there today, that was why I asked Mon-El to train me to become a superhero, and—“

“Wait,” Alex interjected with that, the fire that had dissipated slightly with Kara’s words returning. Her eyes flickered back and forth between the two aliens. “Wait, _you_ trained her?” she asked Mon-El, her voice shaking with anger. Mon-El couldn’t even say anything as Alex’s jaw locked at his lack of response. She lifted her chin. “I want to speak to Mon-El alone,” she told Kara without even turning to her. The Kryptonian frowned.

“Are you kicking me out of my own house?” she asked, her arms crossed over her chest. Alex shot her a glare that make her take a step back.

“I need to speak to Mon-El alone,” she repeated, her voice calm—deadly, almost. Even Mon-El felt his body shudder with the tone of her words. “Wait in the bedroom, Kara.” Kara opened her mouth at first, as if to object, but then she clamped her lips shut. Whirling around she stomped to the bedroom, yet as she passed by Mon-El she put a hand on his arm, her eyes finding his gaze briefly, as if to reassure him that whatever Alex might say wouldn’t change her thoughts. As if she was with him, no matter what.

Relief and gratitude washed over Mon-El at that as he forced a smile at her. And then Kara was gone, leaving him and Alex alone. Neither of them said anything for a while, at least before Mon-El turned to her, clearing his throat.

“Alex, I—“

“No,” Alex cut his words, shaking her head. “Don’t bother apologizing, Mon-El. This isn’t something you can get out of by _apologizing_.” She clenched her teeth, taking a step towards him. “I told you,” she hissed calmly between her teeth. “I told you that I didn’t want her involved in this. Any of this! I told you _specifically_ that I didn’t want her to know about you, or me, or any of this—this superheroing business.” Her voice raised as rage fueled her words. “What makes you think you can go ahead and train her to be a _superhero,”_ she spat out the last word venomously, her gaze searing through the Daxamite, “disrespecting _my_ wishes about _my sister_?”

“I…” Mon-El tried to say, struggling to find the words for a second. He shook his head. “Alex, I… I’m sorry that I went behind your back with this, but… But have you asked Kara what she wants? What if she wants to be involved? What if she wants to be a superhero?” Alex snorted, shaking her head.

“How could you know what she really wants?” she asked, arching her brow mockingly. The words left Mon-El’s mouth before he could think about them.

“Because I know her!” he yelled, not being able to help himself. _Because I spent five years with her,_ he thought. _Because she was a superhero when I met her. Because she was the one that inspired me to be a superhero. Because I’ve never seen her happier than when she’s Supergirl, when she dons that cape, goes out and helps people. Because she was the love of my life, my fiancé, my mate, my everything, and I’d do anything to make her happy._ He wished he could say all of that to Alex as he looked at her eyes, he wished he could show just how _much_ he cared about Kara and her happiness, yet he could only clamp his mouth shut and let Alex continue. A sarcastic laugh bubbled up her chest.

“More than I do?” she asked, jutting out her chin. “You think you can know her better than I do? I’m her _sister,_ Mon-El! I’ve spent years with her, protecting her, standing by her. You’ve known her for weeks, barely! If anyone gets to decide what _she_ wants, that’s _me_ , not you!” She was almost out of breath as she finished her words, her hands shaking with anger. Mon-El opened his mouth to answer. To say something—anything. To say that she wasn’t right. Yet… Yet she was, wasn’t she? The Kara he knew… It was different than the Kara in this timeline. Yes, of course they were the same person, but they didn’t have the same _life_. Basing this Kara’s wishes on the person he knew… It wasn’t fair. Not for Alex, but especially not for Kara. She deserved to build her own life, make her own wishes without him interfering as if…as if he knew better, just because he knew a version of her.

He was almost glad when Kara came out of the bedroom and interrupted their conversation, because he doubted he could find an answer as he clenched his teeth. The Kryptonian’s fiery gaze was focused on her sister. “Stop it, Alex.” Alex narrowed her eyes at her.

“Kara, I told you to stay—“

“No,” Kara cut her words, shaking her head. “I am not going to stand aside and let you grill Mon-El for this, especially when he isn’t guilty of _anything_ , maybe other than trying to give me what I _wanted_.” She stepped forward, between Alex and Mon-El. “You might be my sister, Alex, but you don’t get to decide what I can or cannot do with my life. What I can or can’t want. And you should know that Mon-El wasn’t the one that forced me to become a hero. _I_ asked him to train me. I asked him to help me with it, because I _wanted_ to help people, because I wanted to protect them. I know that I should’ve told you about it, about _him_ , before going out there, but…but this was exactly why I was scared of doing that. Because I _knew_ you’d grill me for wanting to be a superhero and dating an alien.” Alex’s brows rose at that as her gaze went from Kara to Mon-El, and then back at Kara. She almost laughed.

“You’re together?” she asked, pointing to the two of them. Mon-El couldn’t answer, yet Kara crossed her arms over her chest confidently, lifting her chin. “Wow. Just wow.”

“Alex, don’t,” Kara warned her, her voice laced with anger. “Don’t make this about Mon-El. It’s…” Her voice trailed off with that as she stared at Alex’s eyes, as if something hit her only then. She straightened up. “Wait,” she said, glancing at Mon-El over her shoulder. “You… You called him Mon-El. How do you… How do you know his name? How do you know that he is Valor?”

“Kara…” Mon-El whispered, trying to step forward and take her hand, but she shook it away. She stepped closer to her sister.

“I asked you a _question_ , Alex. How did you know about him?” Alex opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out at first. At least until she sighed, and Mon-El could see in her eyes that she’d given up. She pinched the bridge of her nose.

“I… I’m working for an organization called the DEO. The Department of Extranormal Operations,” she began explaining, her voice quivering a bit. Mon-El pressed his lips together as he couldn’t help looking away, feeling the tension in the room in his bones. “We… We protect earth from extraterrestrial beings—aliens.” She looked at her sister desperately before her eyes turned to Mon-El. “And he works with us as Valor, helping us with our jobs.” Kara spun around to face him, her eyes filled with suspicion and questions.

“Is that true?” she asked, as if she had a hard time believing in it. Mon-El could only nod before he forced the words out.

“I’m… I’m sorry, Kara,” he apologized, stepping forward. “I—I should’ve told you before, about the DEO, about Alex, but…but I didn’t know how. I didn’t want to…” His voice trailed off, yet from the way Kara’s eyes softened it felt like she understood what he was talking about. _I didn’t want to get between you and your sister._

Kara flashed him a smile before turning to Alex, her face going cold all over again. “So you’ve been pissed off at me for hiding the—the training and my relationship with Mon-El from you, but you were keeping that from me? Your _job?_ Or… Or the fact that you’re hunting down aliens?”

“I did it to protect you!” Alex snapped, spreading her arms. Mon-El could see tears filling her eyes. “I gave up a medical career to join the DEO for you. To make sure nobody found out about you and that you were safe! My whole life…” She had to stop and take a deep breath when her voice started quivering. “My whole life has been about protecting you! And he… He threw all of that out of the window when he decided to make you into a superhero, without asking me, without thinking whether it would be a good idea or not. He—“

“Don’t—Alex, don’t do that,” Kara whispered, closing her eyes and shaking her head. She inhaled deeply before she continued. “I… I can’t do this right now. I can’t have this conversation right now.” She walked around her sister to her door, opening it. “I’m sorry. I… I want you to leave. Please.” Mon-El’s mouth dropped open in surprise at that. He saw that Alex wasn’t much different from the corner of his eyes.

“Kara, what are you talking about?”

“Alex, please,” Kara almost pleaded, turning her gaze to her sister. “I’m too tired. I fought three aliens today. I just… I just want to rest.” Alex couldn’t say anything for a moment before she shook her head and pointed at Mon-El.

“What about him? Why aren’t you kicking _him_ out?” Kara clenched her teeth at that, anger flickering in her eyes.

“Because he didn’t lie to me about his identity for years or claimed to know what I wanted.” She straightened up, not backing up as Alex stared down on her. The agent finally shook her head as she spread her arms.

“Okay, fine. But if he does anything to hurt you, don’t come to me crying. You don’t know who he really is.” Alex’s gaze flickered to Mon-El, fast enough to see him wince, before she stomped out of the house. The Daxamite couldn’t do anything but watch her leave, his arms shaking at his sides, a knot lodged in his throat.

Kara closed the door behind her sister seconds after she left, yet still didn’t move away, instead resting her forehead against it. Mon-El could see that her chest was shaking and her hand was gripping the door handle a bit too tightly. He forced himself to snap out of his thoughts at that. Yes, what Alex said hurt him, especially since…since she was partly right. And it hurt to hear that…that she thought he would hurt _Kara_ , because… Because he could never do that. Ever. No matter what. That was exactly the opposite of what he was trying to do. All he wanted was Kara to be happy, to get what she wanted, and even the thought of causing her pain was enough to make him sick.

Yet he had to slip away from all of that because this wasn’t about him. This was about Kara. She was the one that argued with her sister—over him. She was the one that was forced to kick her sister out. First and foremost he had to suck up his feelings and be there for her, comfort her, support her. Everything else could come later.

“Hey,” he whispered, closing the distance between him and Kara immediately. She finally let go of the handle when she heard him and turned around, and he could almost hear his heart breaking when he saw the tears shining in her eyes. _And she was so happy just minutes ago._ Mon-El forced a smile for her sake as he reached forward, putting his hands on her shoulders before pulling her into his embrace. “Come here.” Kara immediately snuggled up into his arms, wrapping hers around his waist, and rested her cheek on his chest. The Daxamite stroked her hair, pushing it away from her face and pressing his lips gently on her head. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, rubbing Kara’s back. “I’m so sorry.” He felt Kara shaking her head at that.

“No, don’t apologize,” she whispered, as if she knew exactly what he was talking about. She pulled back slightly to look at his eyes. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” She squeezed his shoulder, as if trying to show him the honesty behind her words. All Mon-El could do was duck his chin and avoid his gaze. He wondered if Kara could feel the desperation in his grip around her chest.

“I…I never wanted to come in between you and Alex. That was why I was afraid to tell you about the DEO—about her. I wanted you to hear it from her. I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” Kara mumbled softly, reaching up to cup his cheeks. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I understand, Mon-El. I…I get why it must’ve been hard for you.” She furrowed her brows and turned her gaze away for a brief second, as if trying to gather up her thoughts. She looked up into his eyes again before she continued. “I should be the one apologizing for what Alex said. Don’t say that I don’t have to. What… What she said about you…about you not knowing what I wanted, not making me happy, hurting me… She was wrong, okay? I _am_ happy with you. You make me so happy, so strong and…and so loved for just being myself and no one else. You make me feel like…like myself, and you give me everything I didn’t even know I wanted from life. I couldn’t ask for anything more.” She ran her fingers through his hair gently, reaching up to press her lips on his. Mon-El closed his eyes, letting himself get lost in the kiss, putting his hand on her back to pull her close. Their lips parted seconds later. Yet Kara didn’t go far, resting her forehead against his, wrapping one arm around his neck. “Don’t you ever doubt that, okay?” she whispered, caressing the nape of his neck before she pulled back to look at his eyes. She seemed like she was trying to make sure he understood her.

Mon-El only hesitated for one second before he nodded, seeing the honesty in her eyes. He stroked her hair gently.

“Okay,” he promised her. “I won’t.”

* * *

**14 th of April, 2022**

**_09:33_ **

Mon-El pushed the front door of the house for Kara, letting her enter before he followed her and let the door close behind him. He made sure it made as little noise as possible before turning around.

“Okay, we’re in,” he whispered, adjusting his glasses and straightening up. Kara nodded next to him, trying to seem confident, yet the way she was biting her bottom lip or her fingers fidgeted gave away her nervousness. She nodded at his words as he continued. “We need to be quiet.” She nodded at that too.

“Yep. Very quiet,” she whispered as they started walking into the hall, her eyes flickering all over the house—Mon-El wouldn’t be surprised if she was using her X-ray vision. “We don’t want anyone alerting the police,” she continued with a low chuckle before she stopped. “Though, granted, we’d probably be able to get out of here before they find us…”

“Kara,” Mon-El warned her softly. “Focus.” She glanced at him, a crinkle between her brows, and then she gulped.

“Right, of course. Focus.” She took out her phone from her pocket. “So, the victim’s name is Veva Marcelyn Durant, a 68 year-old woman who was living with her husband,” she repeated the information quietly that both her and Mon-El knew. Yet the Daxamite didn’t stop her, knowing that talking helped her relax. “Mr. Durant was away, visiting his son for a week, and when he came back yesterday he found the house almost half empty, all of Mrs. Durant’s stuff gone. And I mean, all of it.”

“Just like Destin,” Mon-El finished her thoughts, his gaze flickering to her briefly. Kara stopped and pressed her lips together before she nodded.

Mon-El knew when Kara called her in the morning, telling her that there had been another missing person’s case, that it was important. So they’d met up at CatCo without wasting any time before they flew to the Durant house. Kara had filled him in during the flight about what she knew about the case, and…and it sounded way too much like what happened to Destin Findlay for them to ignore.

Guilt was churning in Mon-El’s stomach ever since. He’d called Chris, asking him to investigate the footage from the security cameras around Mrs. Durant’s house, yet he and Kara also wanted to come to the house, checking to see if they’d been right. If… If this was really those aliens that kidnapped Destin.

And surely enough, as they looked around the house, Mon-El realized with every room that it looked exactly like what happened to Destin. The house literally looked half empty. Most of the stuff was gone, including the furniture, TV, carpets, hell, even clothes from the closets. There were no photos anywhere in the house, and that was weird even if Mrs. Durant hated photos. And the worst part wasn’t even that: There was some indication that Mr. Durant lived in the house; Kara had managed to find some photos and belongings of him using her X-ray vision. Yet there was no indication that Mrs. Durant did.

Yet the last thing that made them sure that it was “those aliens” was Chris’s message, who’d sent them a copy of the footage from in front of the Durant house. Mon-El had opened it with shaky fingers, feeling sick to the stomach, as Kara leaned in to watch it. And there it was: Those three same aliens, the pink-haired girl and two guys next to him, entering the house. The Daxamite shut his eyes as shame churned his insides.

“It’s them,” Kara whispered, yet he could barely hear her at first from the ringing in his ears. He finally managed to swallow hard, open his eyes, and nod.

“Yeah.” He shook her head, glancing at Kara briefly before turning his gaze to the floor. “You were right. This… This wasn’t a one-time thing. We should’ve warned the public.”

“Hey,” Kara disagreed, putting her hand on his arm. “This wasn’t your fault.” She ducked her chin to look into his eyes. “You were only doing what you thought was best for everyone. You would’ve alerted the public if you knew this would happen.” Mon-El could only nod as he looked up, wishing he could feel the truth of her words. Yet she was looking at him with such genuine worry and honesty that a part of him, a part that was completely in love with her, couldn’t help believing in them. He took a deep breath.

“Kara?” he whispered, his voice cracking in the middle with the turmoil of emotions in his stomach. Kara lifted her brows, waiting for him to continue. “You can write that article now and…and publish it. Linking the two kidnappings. You can even use Valor as your source.” He looked up at her. “We should warn the public about—about these aliens.”

A smile slowly spread on Kara’s face with Mon-El’s words, and she nodded without even a hint of hesitation.

“Consider it done.”


	19. Building A Life

**14 th of April, 2022**

**_12:35_ **

Kara and Mon-El landed on the terrace of DEO almost at the same time. _Almost_. It would seem the same to anyone with normal speed, but if Mon-El’s superspeed wasn’t tricking him Kara’s feet had touched the ground almost a second before his did.

And surely enough, the Kryptonian pointed that out as she looked up at him. “I won,” she said with a smirk, crossing her arms over her chest. Mon-El lifted his brows as he tried to fight the smile that was trying to find its way to his face.

“We landed at the same time, Kara,” he lied, his tone teasing. Kara gaped at him for a second at that before she scoffed, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

“I was one second faster than you, and you know it. And it’s even more impressive since I didn’t know the location and you just told me to fly to ‘the building over there.’” She narrowed her eyes at him as he laughed, and from the way the corners of her lips twitched and her eyes shone, Mon-El could see that she wasn’t serious too. He gently took her arm.

“One second is nothing to people,” he argued. “It’s like… It’s like the difference between putting eleven spoons of sugar in your coffee instead of ten. After some point it doesn’t make a difference.” A small chuckle left Kara’s lips at that, and she glanced at Mon-El as they entered to the DEO building.

“What kind of an analogy is that? It doesn’t even make…” Her voice trailed off when she turned around, her eyes finally taking in the main hall of DEO. Her steps halted as Mon-El watched her eyes widen. It seemed like all her thoughts about who won their race were forgotten. “Whoa.”

“Impressive, isn’t it?” he asked as he put his hands on his hips. “I’m gonna admit, I thought it was pretty awe-and-some when I first landed here.” _When I first met you._

“Awesome,” Kara muttered under her breath as she stepped forward, grabbing Mon-El’s hand and pulling him to her side. Mon-El’s smile widened when he heard her almost absentmindedly correct his word, just like she always used to do. Of course, after being on earth for six years, he’d pretty much gotten the hang of earth’s vocabulary, yet he always liked to mess up some of the more challenging words because it always brought a twinkle of joy into Kara’s eyes when she corrected him. _Some things never change._

“So this…this is where you work?” Kara’s question took him out of her thoughts as they started walking down the stairs. “The… The DEO.” He nodded with a sigh.

“Basically. Though as Valor I mostly work _with_ them, it’s not like I get paid or anything. As Mike Matthews, though, I work _for_ the DEO as the consultant in extraterrestrial life,” he tried to explain, scratching his cheek. He couldn’t help fidgeting with his fingers. Yes, he’d began to like working in the DEO in the last few days, since J’onn offered him a lot of freedom for his work as Valor, yet… Yet he’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss his job at Gemm. He loved being a critic. He’d busted his ass off watching and reviewing all kinds of TV shows and movies, and sometimes he had to spend the whole day in front of the TV, but he liked it, which was something he couldn’t find in the DEO. As free as working for DEO was, he’d much rather have a job that he liked than have free time.

He noted in his head to talk to J’onn about that. If he truly was going to live in this timeline… It was about time he started to build a life here.

“Please tell me that’s not a real job,” Kara asked him at that, her brows raised. Mon-El chuckled with a shrug.

“Well, apparently, it is.” His voice trailed off when he noticed someone headed their way. His smile slipped away from his face as he straightened up his shoulders. Kara must’ve felt his distress as the joy in her eyes left its place to worry. She glanced over her shoulder…

“Kara.” Alex’s voice cut through the tension in the air like a knife as the agent stood in front of the two superheroes. There was no mistaking the iciness of her hazel eyes as she stood up a bit straighter and crossed her arms over her chest. Her gaze was focused on Kara, though Mon-El saw her glance at him every now and then, which didn’t help with his discomfort at all.

Kara squared her shoulders as she put her hands on her hips, taking her signature Supergirl pose with her back straight and her cape flowing behind her. She lifted her chin. “Name’s Supergirl,” she told Alex, confidence dripping from her voice. Her eyes briefly flickered to Mon-El, who couldn’t help a smile from pulling the corners of his lips, mirroring the small smile on her face. Kara then turned back to Alex. Her face was all business again. “And you must be _Agent Danvers_ ,” she almost spat out, lifting her brows. Mon-El saw Alex wince visibly at the venomous words, so much so that he felt like someone was squeezing his chest. Despite everything that Alex said to him _and_ about him the previous night, she’d been there for him for the last couple of weeks, even at his worst moments. The last thing he wanted was to hurt her.

He gently put his hand on Kara’s elbow before she could say anything else. The Kryptonian turned to him, her eyes an icy shade of blue. Mon-El knew she was still angry, she’d made that pretty obvious that morning when he told her that he wanted to show the DEO to her. After the initial excitement and relief about him sharing an important part of his life with her passed, the first question she’d asked was whether Alex would be there or not. Mon-El had to say yes, and that… That did not make her happy. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to face her sister, especially since she had no idea what to say.

“What she said was really hurtful,” she’d tried to explain to Mon-El. “I just don’t know… I don’t know if I can forgive that right now. And keeping DEO secret from me for years… I mean, I only know you for barely two weeks, and you’re already taking me there. She hasn’t even _mentioned_ it.”

The Daxamite had to give her the right to be angry. Yet that didn’t mean he didn’t believe they needed to talk about this before the things between them got worse.

When Kara’s eyes found his, Mon-El tried to tell her silently to keep calm and not snap at Alex. Kara had a tendency of doing that, and she usually regretted it afterwards. Yet right now, she seemed like she got what he was saying, because she sighed and relaxed her shoulders as she turned back to her sister.

“You can call me Alex, Kara,” Alex whispered silently, the cold look on her face morphing into a regretful one. “I know we have…” Her eyes traveled on Kara’s suit, “a lot to talk about, but I’m still your sister.” All Kara did was nod at that as an answer. She took a deep breath.

“Yeah, but that’s for another time. Right now we have more pressing business.” She glanced at Mon-El. “Do you have the photos from Mrs. Durant’s house?” He nodded as he led her and Alex next to the main control center.

“Yep. And Chris here will help us analyze them.” Chris spun around in his chair with the mention of his name, and his fingers on the keyboard immediately came to a stop when he saw Kara. And the way Mon-El’s hand was resting on her elbow. And probably how they were standing a bit too closer, with Kara’s left side almost flushed with Mon-El’s right side, to be just friends.

A grin spread on his face as he hopped off his chair. “Mon-El, you didn’t tell me you were bringing your girlfriend. I would’ve prepared something for her if I knew,” he said as he wiped his hand to his jeans before extending it to Kara. “Hi. You must be…”

“Kara,” Mon-El and Kara answered at the same time, which caused them to glance at each other with a small smile. Kara took Chris’s hand carefully. “And you must be Chris. Mon-El told me about you.” Chris lifted his brow at that as he turned to the Daxamite.

“He did?” Mon-El couldn’t help chuckling as Kara continued.

“Yeah, he said you were the one that helped me with the Destin Findlay case. Thank you about that.” There was no mistaking the way Chris’s eyes widened.

“I knew it!” he exclaimed as he looked at Mon-El with a scolding gaze. “I knew it was not for ‘just a friend.’” The Daxamite just shrugged at that as Chris narrowed his eyes. “Don’t you shrug nonchalantly at me. It was so obvious. Right, Alex?” He turned to the agent at that, confidently, but one glare from Alex was enough for him to cave. He cleared his throat as he winced visibly. “Not that it’s, um, any of my business. But, you know…” He turned to Kara to change the subject. “By the way, Kara, did I mention that I loved your suit? The cape, the ‘S’, the boots… It’s just…” Kara chuckled at that as she nodded.

“Yeah, it’s… It’s a gift from a friend.” She glanced at Chris. “I think you’d like him.”

“Maybe we’ll introduce you to him some time,” Mon-El said matter-of-factly, causing Kara’s eyes to go wide, before he took out a USB. Winn had loved his job at the DEO in the previous timeline, and if he wanted something like that in this one too… Mon-El would talk to J’onn and see if that was possible. “But anyway, Chris, these are the photos from Mrs. Durant’s house. We looked at everything that might be counted as evidence, but maybe a second pair of eyes would be good too.” He glanced at Alex as they made their way to Chris’s computer. Alex nodded curtly, all business, as Chris sat back down and plugged the USB in.

“Thank you for this,” he said as he focused on the computer. He glanced at Mon-El a couple of seconds later as if he just remembered something. “By the way, Mon-El, Director J’onnz asked to speak with you. You might want to drop by his office before you two leave.” Mon-El arched his brow at that. He barely spoke with J’onn in the last few days—at least outside of DEO business. Granted, he hadn’t been around DEO much lately; he’d spent almost every bit of free time he had with Kara. He knew… He knew it might not be the best course of action, being with her all the time, but…but after spending a year without her… He couldn’t help himself. Having her back… It felt like such a miracle, like something that he could lose if he didn’t use it fully. Maybe in time he’d get used to this timeline, he’d truly get used to having her by his side and life would become normal again, but right now… Right now he needed her.

“Okay, thanks, Chris,” he thanked the IT specialist as the man started working on the picture. He just waved his hand as a way of saying it was no problem. Mon-El turned to Kara, putting his hand on her shoulder. “Let me just take care of this, okay?” His eyes flickered to Alex. “Can you wait for a couple of minutes?”

Kara nodded almost immediately at that. “Yeah, of course. I think…” She cleared her throat, looking at Alex as well, as if she knew what Mon-El thought: They could use those couple of minutes to have their much needed sisterly talk. “I think I might use those couple of minutes too.” She smiled as she reached up to press a small kiss on Mon-El’s lips. “I’ll be waiting.”

Mon-El’s smile was mirroring hers when he turned around to leave, her kiss lingering on his lips.

* * *

**_12:53_ **

Mon-El pushed open J’onn’s door without even knocking, seeing that the Martian was inside through the glass. J’onn looked up from his work on the desk at him, an exasperated look filling his face. He sighed.

“You know, Mon-El, I’m missing the times you were sad about losing Kara,” he joked, clasping his hands in front of him. “You at least listened to me then. Ever since you’ve returned to your happy self, I can’t see that happening.” Mon-El couldn’t help the grin forming on his face as he plopped down on one of J’onn’s chairs lazily, resting his arm on the desk.

“Admit it,” he said. “You like it too.” J’onn rolled his eyes at that, yet Mon-El could see a twinkle of happiness in them as he looked at the Daxamite. A small smile pulled his lips.

“It _is_ good to finally see you happy, I can admit that.” Mon-El’s grin widened at that before he nodded.

“Yeah, it’s… It’s good to finally be happy.” He looked at his open palms. Thanks to the yellow sun all the nail marks had healed completely, without leaving a trace behind them. And it felt… It felt almost too good. To know that he didn’t need that pain anymore. To know he didn’t have to _feel_ it. He could be happy, truly happy, and all of that was… “I’d really missed being with Kara.” His eyes flickered to the door of the office, even though he knew it was impossible to see her from there. “She’s… She’s just…”

“She makes you happy,” J’onn finished his sentence, and somehow those words summed up everything Mon-El could say about Kara. He nodded as he turned to the Martian. “I’m truly glad that you found your way back to her, Mon-El.” A corner of Mon-El’s lips tipped up.

“Yeah, me too.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “Who could’ve known that a good would come out of something my mother did?” That earned a low chuckle from J’onn as he shook his head.

“I can agree with you on that,” he said before taking out a file from his drawer. “Anyway, I have something for you.” J’onn’s eyes was twinkling with pride as he handed the file to Mon-El. The Daxamite lifted his brow as he opened it, coming face to face with a…

“A university degree?” he asked, his voice hoarse. J’onn nodded.

“Yeah, in film studies. Since you went to a university in the original timeline, I thought it was only fair you have your degree here too.” He shrugged almost nonchalantly. “You know, if you ever want to work as a TV and movie critic again.” Mon-El’s eyes flickered to J’onn from the file as he shook his head. He didn’t even know what to say as his throat knotted with emotions.

“J’onn, I… I don’t know how to thank you,” he whispered. He knew, as Kara had said before, he didn’t need a university degree to become a critic, but it certainly made his job harder. Having this… It could open up a lot of doors for him in this timeline.

“Well, you’ve earned it, Mon-El. _Technically_ it isn’t fake.” Mon-El chuckled as he nodded, holding the file close to his chest.

“Thank you. Again.” His voice was thick because of his emotions and gratitude. A small smile pulled his lips. “I hope this doesn’t mean you want me out of the DEO.” J’onn chuckled quietly at that.

“You got me there,” he joked before his face turned serious. “But no, you can stay here if you want. I just wanted to give you a choice, since you’d loved your job.” Mon-El could only nod as he looked at the file in his hands, at least until J’onn took him out of his thoughts. “Also, I saw that you brought Kara here, in her Supergirl suit.” The Daxamite looked up at that, feeling at a loss of words for a second. He opened his mouth, racking his brain to find an excuse.

“I… I wanted to show her the DEO. You know, I didn’t want to keep it a secret. Is it… Is it okay? It’s not a problem, right? I thought…” J’onn laughed and shook his head.

“Yeah, it’s no problem. I trust your judgment.” He crossed his arms as he leaned back on his chair. “Besides, I’d love to have a superhero that’s a bit more responsible than you.” Mon-El shot him a glare at that before sighing exasperatedly. Not that J’onn was _that_ wrong, though. Kara had always been the more responsible of the two of them.

“Okay, fine, I’m gonna let that go just because you’re right,” he said, lifting his hands with defeat before he stood up. “And because you gave me this.” The only thing J’onn did was nod at that. “And if that was all, I’d…” His voice trailed off, yet the Martian seemed like he knew what Mon-El was talking about. He laughed as he shook his head.

“Yes, yes, go back to your girlfriend.” The Daxamite smiled, getting ready to turn around and leave, before J’onn stopped him.

“And Mon-El?” He turned back to the Martian curiously. “I’d like to meet Kara in person someday. As fun as seeing your memories were, I think I’d prefer actually seeing her.” Mon-El found himself laughing at that, a carefree, happy laugh that he once thought he’d never have back, and nodded.

“Okay, I’ll let Kara know about that,” he promised before pushing the door open and leaving the office, a genuine smile on his face. Something else he thought he’d never get back.

Yet he had it back now, and he wouldn’t let it slip away from him again.

* * *

**16 th of April, 2022**

**_12:42_ **

“So,” Winn started as he chewed on his slice of pizza, looking at the two superheroes. “When will I get to meet these ‘associates’ you’d been talking about?” Mon-El almost choked on the club soda he was drinking as his eyes snapped to Winn, only to see a hopeful look on his face. “I mean, I did design Kara’s suit, right? That has got to win me some points.”

“Winn!” Kara yelled, her cheeks red, as she dropped her fork on the table a bit too forcefully, so much so that Mon-El could almost hear it bend. Winn turned to her with wide, innocent eyes.

“What? I’m just pointing out facts.”

“Wait,” Mon-El interrupted them before Kara could say anything, leaning forward to rest his elbow on the table. “How do you even know that we’re working with someone?” If he remembered correctly he’d never mentioned that to Winn, not like he did with Kara. He’d been more careful around the man, partly because… Well, first of all, while he wasn’t used to keeping secrets or hiding things from Kara there had been some stuff throughout the years that he’d had to hide from Winn. Nothing big, but… Some things were too personal to tell even your best friend. And second of all… When he was around Kara he could rarely think clearly, especially since he’d gotten her back after not being with her for a year. He couldn’t exactly _think_ of the consequences of his words.

He slipped away from his thoughts when he saw Kara face-palm from the corner of his eyes as Winn frowned. “Um, Kara told me?” he started timidly, almost as if he was afraid of Mon-El’s reaction. “I…I asked her whether you designed your own suit or not, and she said it was one of your associates. Was that—Was that something I wasn’t supposed to know?” Mon-El lifted his brows as he glanced at Kara, who was glancing at him with guilt in her eyes.

“I’m sorry!” she almost exclaimed as she adjusted her glasses. “It just… It slipped out of my mouth. I wasn’t thinking about it when I answered his question.” Mon-El had to fight the grin that was trying to pull his lips as he watched Kara glare at Winn with her eyes narrowed. “And I _told_ you not to say a word about it to Mo—Mike,” she hissed between her teeth. Winn winced with her words as his shoulders slumped, as if he was trying to make himself as small as possible or maybe even disappear. This time, Mon-El couldn’t help chuckling as he shook his head, reaching forward to pat Winn on the shoulder.

“It’s okay, Winn. It’s not like that was some really big secret. I think anyone would guess that Valor is working with someone.” He reached for Kara’s hand and slid his fingers through hers, giving her a reassuring squeeze. “Besides, Kara trust you.” _You’re my best friend._ “So that means I trust you.” _I’ll always trust you._ He flashed Winn a small smile, seeing his shoulders sag with relief. He nodded with a gulp.

“Okay, good. That’s good.” He sent an apologetic look to Kara’s way before turning to Mon-El, his enthusiasm filling his eyes all over again. “Does that mean I get to meet your associates?” The Daxamite found himself laughing again as he scratched his cheek.

“Well, I’ll…” He glanced at Kara. “I’ll ask them.” A grateful smile pulled Kara’s lips at that as she nodded, before her eyes snapped at Winn as if she just remembered something.

“Oh, by the way, Winn, I forgot to tell you.” A mischievous smile pulled her lips as she leaned forward. “The guy who helped designing his suit? He said he really liked mine. And…” She stopped for dramatic effect, making Mon-El’s corners tip up, before she straightened up and continued. “Mike even said _maybe_ he’ll introduce you two to each other.” Winn’s eyes lit up so much, so fast, that Mon-El couldn’t help chuckling as he turned to him.

“Really?” he asked. The Daxamite nodded without hesitation.

“We’re always looking for tech experts like you.” He made a mental note in his mind to talk to J’onn about that, though he couldn’t imagine the Martian being against the idea of bringing Winn into the DEO if he was exceptionally cool with Kara working with them. Alex had even given the Kryptonian a pair of comms, to Mon-El’s surprise, so that whenever something came up they could reach both superheroes easily.

It also meant that Alex and Kara had made up, and Alex was okay with Kara being Supergirl, so Mon-El had been extremely happy when he found that out. Kara told him that Alex apologized for the way she acted, and that she was just worried about her little sister, but she wouldn’t come in the way of something that Kara wanted. And she’d also apologized for what she said about Mon-El, saying that it was obvious how much he truly cared about Kara, and she should’ve known.

Honestly, their conversation seemed to have gone _way_ better than Mon-El had imagined.

“Wait,” Winn said, taking Mon-El out of his thoughts. “Wait, you mean… You want my help with the—the superheroing, and the…the punching aliens stuff…”

“No,” Kara interrupted, glancing at Mon-El with confusion in her eyes. “Not with the…punching aliens stuff…but, you know, the tech stuff. Right?” She lifted her brow, as if challenging the Daxamite to disagree. He just nodded.

“Yeah, of course. But, as I said, we’re always looking for tech experts like you, and I’ll make sure to put in a good word for you.” He flashed a smile at Winn, who seemed so awestruck that he couldn’t do anything other than staring at Mon-El and Kara for a couple of seconds. A grin slowly spread on his face.

“Yeah,” he said, nodding. “Yeah, I’d…” He straightened up, trying to look cool, and cleared his throat. “I’d like that.” Mon-El was just about to laugh at that, at least until a voice coming from his comms interrupted him. And from the look on Kara’s eyes, he could see that she was hearing it too.

“Valor? Supergirl? You there?” Chris’s voice rang in their ears. Mon-El immediately leaned forward and activated his comms before he answered, seeing that Kara was doing the same.

“We’re listening,” he said quietly, especially since Chris sounded really tense. His voice suggested this was more than some armed robbery. He reached forward absentmindedly and took Kara’s hand in his, needing the reassurance that she was with him. She squeezed his hand as Chris answered.

“I found your three aliens,” he said. Mon-El couldn’t help it as his eyes snapped up, his body already preparing itself for action. His eyes met with Kara’s only briefly, for less than a second, yet it was enough for him to see they had the same thing in mind. They stood up at the same time, and the Daxamite could hear Kara excusing themselves to Winn, saying that it was an emergency, before she fell into step with Mon-El, who’d been listening to Chris’s direction as to where the aliens were. He felt Kara’s hand slip into his as he led her to the back exit, to the alley that he knew would be empty.

“You have your suit on, right?” he asked her in a whisper, knowing she’d be able to hear. Kara nodded as she opened the door in front of them and held it for him.

“Yeah, you told me to wear it whenever I could.” Mon-El nodded, taking off his clothes with superspeed. When he turned to Kara, he saw that she was already in her suit, her hair falling loose over her shoulders. Despite the severity of the situation, he couldn’t help smiling as he straightened up his cape.

“Well, look who’s already faster than her mentor.” The joke felt dry, even on his lips, when he saw only a small smile appear on Kara’s lips and disappear quickly. There was no mistaking the Kryptonian’s anxiety. “Hey, you okay?” Mon-El asked, stepping forward to take her hand. He knew they had to hurry, before the aliens could kidnap someone else, yet he also knew he couldn’t just force Kara to fly out there when she was obviously unnerved.

“You think I can do this?” Kara asked, her voice quivering slightly. “I mean, what if I’m not…”

“Hey,” Mon-El cut her when her voice trailed off, understanding what she meant. He took her arms gently in his hands. “You got this, okay? _We_ got this. And…you’re not alone in this. I’m with you.” _Now and always._ He flashed her a smile and squeezed her arms to reassure her. Kara stared at him for a second before gulping and nodding, her lips forming into a smile too.

“Yeah,” she whispered as she squared her shoulders. “You’re right.” She cleared her throat. “Now let’s go and kick those aliens’ asses.” With that she jumped into the air, making Mon-El think once more that he’d never get tired to seeing her like that, at least before he flew right after her.

* * *

**_12:59_ **

Mon-El spotted the pink hair he’d gotten familiar with before he and Kara even landed on the street. The thump they made on the ground was enough to get the attention of the three aliens, so much so that they stopped halfway through the walkway, leading to the house of one Mr. Armando Rivera, as Chris said. It didn’t take a genius to guess what they were there for.

“Stop right there!” Kara said, making the pink-haired alien whip her head around and turn to her. As always her face was covered from her nose to her neck, leaving only her eyes and hair open, which was tied in a ponytail. The other two aliens wore masks that covered their whole face except their eyes. Yet still, there was no mistaking the surprise in their eyes when they saw Kara.

_“Supergirl,”_ the pink haired woman hissed with a voice that was electronically distorted. A familiar feeling washed over Mon-El as he watched the woman’s moves carefully. There was something about her… _something_ …that reminded him of something, yet he couldn’t pinpoint what it was. He wondered if she could be someone that he and Kara faced in the previous timeline.

He shook away his thoughts as he stepped forward. “Step away from the house.”

“You’re not gonna hurt anyone else,” Kara finished his sentence. Whatever it was, it caused the pink haired woman to snap out of whatever she was thinking. She made a hand gesture to the two men next to her, who had their hands on their guns and eyes on the two superheroes, hissing between her teeth something that was too low for Mon-El to hear. His eyes snapped to Kara.

“The others are going in, she’ll stay back to distract us,” the Kryptonian muttered through her teeth with superspeed before she shot forward, wanting to get to the two men before they could get far.

At least she tried to, until the woman swirled around and opened her palm, shooting a white beam of light that hit Kara right in the stomach, sending her flying back. Mon-El immediately rushed forward and caught her before she could hit the ground and steadied her on her feet. Their gazes met briefly, yet it was enough for them to communicate their plan. Kara would deal with the woman, distract _her_ while Mon-El went inside to save Mr. Rivera.

He watched Kara focus her heat vision to the alien right before he turned to the house, focusing his attention to the front door, but before he could do anything the woman appeared in front of him. A rope that seemed to be made of electricity and light appeared in her hand, which she swung at Kara’s direction, while she opened her open palm and shot at Mon-El, who barely avoided getting hit by jumping up. He saw the rope wrap around Kara’s legs, causing her to lose balance, right as he saw the woman disappear again.

It was all happening so fast that even him, with his superspeed, couldn’t follow everything. The woman was way too fast for either of them to follow. Whenever Kara tried using her heat vision or freeze breath the woman escaped her move, as if she anticipated it, and disappeared, appearing someone else to knock them back. Whenever Mon-El tried to rush inside, trying to find a weakness to the woman’s defense, she was blocking him, whether it was with the weapons that kept appearing in her hands—it took him a couple seconds to realize they appeared from whatever device was on her palms—or her shots. She’d thrown an electric net to him once, trapping him in ground for a couple of seconds, and it would’ve probably been more if his body didn’t absorb electricity.

Whatever she did, though, the woman didn’t budge, didn’t let Mon-El or Kara anywhere close to the house, and while both superheroes were exhausted as Kara stumbled to Mon-El’s side to pull him to his feet, the woman didn’t even seem tired.

_“I wouldn’t continue fighting if I were you,”_ she said, the knives in her hand disappearing. _“You’ll be wasting your time. I can’t let you get close and interfere with the mission.”_ She stopped, eyeing both of them. _“You’d be thanking us if you knew what we were doing.”_

Kara sneered as she attempted to step forward, yet Mon-El stopped her by putting his hand on her arm when he saw the flash of a whip appearing in the woman’s hand. “Why would we be thanking you?” she sputtered, her face twisted with rage. “You’re kidnapping people. You’re the criminals here.”

The woman didn’t even budge with the insult as she lifted her head, her blue eyes flashing from Kara to Mon-El, and then back to Kara. _“We’re doing what we must to keep the world from falling apart. As unpleasant as that is.”_ Her eyes turned to Mon-El, boring into him, and he didn’t know how but somehow… Somehow he felt like this woman knew him better than anyone, better than even he knew himself. Not just him, but…but _everything_. The present, the future, the past. Somehow her eyes carried the knowledge of it all, yet it was such a short moment before she turned her gaze to the ground and stepped back that it might just be him seeing things.

Yet as the two men appeared on both sides of the woman, as she lifted her gaze to the sky with her palms open, as she said her last words before disappearing, Mon-El couldn’t let go of that look. And he couldn’t help thinking that her words were somehow directed at _him_.

_“Surely you must know the lengths people would go to keep their world from falling apart.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooo we finally meet our three mysterious aliens - sort of. Any guesses as to who they are? :)


	20. Moving On

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!
> 
> I'm so so sorry that this took me waaaaay too long to post, but it's truly been a crazy and tiring week with my internship, and I also was feeling a bit sick (well, that's what happens if you sleep about 6 hours every day but whatever) so I really couldn't proofread this. I promise, the next chapter will post way more quickly than this one ;)
> 
> Also, this chapter is a flashback to the aftermath of Kara's death. I wanted to have some sort of closure for the flashback chapters, and I felt like this was a good place to add that, just before the HUGE revelations are coming up. So I'm so sorry for interrupting the important stuff with a flashback, but I promise, the following chapters will be so worth it ;) I'm so excited for them; in fact, some of them are my favorite chapters in the whole story. So get excited, because good things will be coming up! (And when I say good, I mean good from a storytelling point, not that it's any less angsty lol)
> 
> Anyway, hope y'all like this!

**16 th of April, 2021**

**_19:32_ **

Mon-El would’ve assumed that after coming to the alien bar and getting drinks every night for nearly a month, he would’ve gotten used to the pitiful and judgmental gazes Aviya sent his way as she passed him the drinks. Yet somehow, every time that happened it still managed to hurt him, still managed to make him feel like nothing but a worthless, ungrateful piece of trash. So much so that he looked forward to the nights she wouldn’t be there, so that at least he wouldn’t have to suffer through that.

He was hurting enough without it added to the mess.

It hurt. It’d been 26 days since Kara died, yet it still _hurt_ as badly as it did on that first day. Mon-El could’ve never imagined that losing someone could hurt this much, could wreck someone like this. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t lost anybody before; he’d suffered through his fair share of losses. His planet. His father. And even his mother, even though she wasn’t actually dead. Yet none of them had affected him as much as Kara’s loss did, not even _close._ And he knew why. When he lost all those things, he wasn’t losing something that he particularly cared about. Daxam might’ve been his planet once but it had never really been his _home,_ not in the way Kara had been. He wasn’t happy there. Of course losing the planet had been a blow but he’d managed to _deal_ with it, because he’d never been happy there in the first place. Same with his parents. It hurt to lose them, of course, but he’d never considered them as his home either, nor he was happy with them. With Kara, though…

Kara had been his home in all the ways that mattered. He’d loved her like he hadn’t loved _anything_ before. She was… She was so good, so caring, unselfish, and so, so kind that it was _impossible_ not to love her. And through that love he’d built a life, _they’d_ built a life together in which they were happy. A life in which he had _everything_ he could ever want. And now… Now he’d lost it. He’d lost _everything_ , and he didn’t know how to cope with it, let alone move on.

Aviya wasn’t even surprised anymore to see him there when he stopped in front of the bar, his hands tucked in his pockets. He could feel how his jacket, which used to cling to his chest tightly, was slipping from his shoulders; another indication that he’d lost weight. Not that it was much surprising, considering he didn’t even _remember_ the last thing he ate.

“Usual?” Aviya asked almost mockingly as she reached down the counter to grab two bottles of Zakkarian ale. Mon-El couldn’t help wincing with the bite in her words, as if…as if she was disappointed in him. Well, she wouldn’t be the only one. He didn’t even know how many voicemails Savanna or J’onn sent him, asking him to come to work. To be Mike Matthews or…or Valor. J’onn had even said that it would be what Kara wanted, for him to be the hero of National City in her stead. And he knew J’onn was right, he knew damn well that the Martian’s words were true. But J’onn didn’t know how much it hurt. He didn’t know how hard it was to wake up each day in an empty bed, knowing you wouldn’t see the love of your life, ever again. He had M’gann. M’gann was _alive._ He couldn’t know.

“Aviya…” Mon-El whispered, hating the hoarseness in his voice, hating how even something as simple as _talking_ hurt because of all that sobbing. He tried to clear his throat—but it didn’t do anything other than hurting his throat more. “You know,” he continued as he watched Aviya put the Zakkarian ale bottles on the counter. She stared at him for a couple of seconds, searching his face, before shaking her head.

“Yes,” she agreed as she pushed the bottles to him. “I know. But that doesn’t mean I support it.” She didn’t even flinch when Mon-El grimaced, and only shook her head. Her eyes then flickered to the corner of the bar. “Also,” she added, her voice softening only slightly. “You might wanna check up on her before you leave. She’s been drinking for quite some time now.” With that Aviya turned around and walked to the other side of the bar to get another order. Mon-El frowned, looking around to see who she was talking about…

Only to come face to face with Alex.

He almost froze when he saw her slumped over the table, a whiskey bottle in her hand, and if he wasn’t wrong the bottle was half-empty. She wasn’t looking up, she wasn’t moving, only…only staring in front of her absentmindedly, yet he didn’t miss the tears streaming down her face. Guilt twisted his stomach as he shut his eyes. It was his fault. All of it. Kara had… She’d died because of him. Alex was here, drinking, because of him. She and Maggie had broken up because of him. A couple of days ago he’d witnessed their fight in the bar, which was… Well, it would be an understatement to say it wasn’t pleasant. Alex had been drinking, again, and Maggie… She’d had enough of it. She’d yelled at Alex, telling her that for the last few weeks she’d been trying to help her through the pain, trying to get her to ask for help instead of turning to drinking _all the damn time_ , yet she’d had enough. She couldn’t keep carrying Alex home after the woman had too much drink. She couldn’t keep putting her life on hold to keep Alex from breaking apart, she couldn’t keep trying to reach Alex and help her if she didn’t at least try to heal. And with that, after telling Alex to call her if she ever decides to stop ruining herself, Maggie had left.

He’d caused that too. He’d ruined their relationship. He couldn’t help wondering briefly whether there was something that he _didn’t_ ruin, yet even without needing to think about it he knew the answer.

He closed his eyes to try and keep himself together, and took his usual place in the bar. He was trying to keep his eyes away from Alex, to avoid looking at her and ignore the guilt, shame, and pain churning in his stomach, yet it was almost impossible. He wrapped his hand around the neck of one of the Zakkarian ale bottles, ready to pop it open, when a silent sob filled his ears. There was no mistaking where it came from. He couldn’t help feeling like someone punched his stomach when he heard it, no matter how silent it was. Another one followed as his eyes flickered to Alex without his intention, and he saw the woman rest his forehead against the mouth of the whiskey, shaking all over. There was no doubt that she was drunk, because the Alex Danvers Mon-El knew would never cry in public, especially in front of people that she didn’t know, if she could help it.

Mon-El didn’t even know when he’d put the bottle of ale down and stood up, but in a couple of seconds he found himself next to Alex’s table, taking the whiskey from her hands before she could take a sip from it. A groan of protest left her mouth as she tried to reach for it, but Mon-El kept it away from her. “No, Alex,” he said, trying to sound as normal as possible—at least not like he’d cried for hours. He clenched his teeth as he knelt in front of her next to the table. “You’ve drunk enough.”

Alex’s eyes snapped at him the moment he heard his voice, the pain in them turning into anger, and she clenched her teeth. Her fingers curled into fists on the table. “Mon-El,” she snarled, trying to keep herself from slurring her words. “What are you doing here?” Mon-El couldn’t help wincing at the…the pain and hate fueling her words as he turned his eyes to the floor. Alex’s strangled laugh filled his ears. “Of course. Why am I not surprised? You’re drinking too. Is that… Is that the only way Daxamites know how to cope with pain?” The Daxamite snapped his eyes up at her, denial at the tip of his tongue, but then he stopped. Because, after all, she wasn’t really wrong, was she? He was drinking to cope, to forget the pain, just like he always did on Daxam. The fact that it didn’t work right now didn’t change the intention.

“Don’t do this to yourself, Alex,” Mon-El opted to say to change the topic instead of answering Alex’s question. Before he could continue Alex cut in.

“You’ve been drinking yourself to stupor for longer than I have, and—and you’re telling me not to do it?” she asked, jutting out her chin. Even with all that alcohol in her system, even with her words slurring so much that it took Mon-El a couple seconds to understand them, Alex still managed to hit him right in the chest. He closed his eyes, struggling to keep his tears at bay, before he shook his head and put his hand on her knee.

“You don’t deserve this. I do,” he whispered, lifting his eyes to look at her. This time he didn’t let her speak. “Let’s… Let’s get you out of here, okay? Let’s get you home.” He tried to grab Alex’s arms to pull her to her feet gently, but the woman swatted away his hand.

“I don’t have a home,” she hissed, seemingly ready to punch him in the face. “Thanks to you.” Mon-El wondered briefly whether she could hear the cracking of his heart as he felt his throat knot. Somehow… Somehow hearing those words affected him more than he thought they could. It wasn’t as if he wasn’t thinking the same things, but…but hearing Alex say them… Somehow it was much, much worse. “You killed her,” Alex continued.

“I know—“

“You killed her, Mon-El! Do you really think that I’d—I’d come _anywhere_ with you?”

“I know, Alex!” Mon-El yelled, not being able to help himself. He could feel his voice shaking, he could feel the people in the bar looking at them, but he couldn’t care. Closing his eyes he took a deep breath before he continued, yet his voice was still shaking. “I know I killed her. I know I ruined everything. But… But please, don’t ruin yourself because of my mistake.” He searched Alex’s face, seeing a flicker of pain in her eyes behind the curtain of anger, before they hardened again. She narrowed her eyes.

“Like you’ve been doing anything different,” she scoffed. Mon-El swallowed hard, trying desperately to get rid off the knot in his throat, before he shook his head.

“I’m… I’m not a good example,” he said, whispered really, because he doubted he could speak louder without collapsing into sobs. “Don’t be…like me. You… You deserve much better than I do. Be like…” He had to stop for one second to gather up his thoughts. “Be like her. She wouldn’t want you to do this to yourself.” And at that moment, as he looked into Alex’s eyes, he realized the truth of his words. People had been telling the exact same thing to him but…but he could never really believe them. He thought Kara wouldn’t like him if she could see him now. He thought she wouldn’t care, that she would think he wasn’t worthy of her love. But… But that was wrong, wasn’t it? Because that wasn’t who Kara was. Kara cared so, so much. She cared about _everyone_. She was so kind, so generous, so…so forgiving. She didn’t give up on people that she loved, no matter what. And…and she loved him. So of course she would care, of course she wouldn’t want him to ruin his life. She would want him to continue living. To move on. To… To at least _try._ She would want him to be happy no matter what.

He tried to blink away the tears that filled his eyes as he looked up at Alex. The anger on her face had been dissipating slowly, leaving its place to pain, to hollowness, to grief, everything Mon-El had been feeling for the last week. He reached forward to grab Alex’s hands, to squeeze them and offer some sort of support, as he forced a smile. At least he hoped it looked like a smile. “I miss her too, you know,” he whispered. “More than you can imagine.”

And that was what snapped Alex’s tether. Tears filled her eyes all over again as she lurched forward, wrapping her arms around Mon-El’s shoulder as if she needed his support. Either she was shaking with sobs, or it was Mon-El that was trembling, but he had to shut his eyes to steady himself as he hugged Alex back, needing her support just as much as she needed his.

“I’m sorry,” Alex whispered, her pain audible in her voice. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I… I know you love her too. I know you…didn’t want to lose her. I just…” She stopped for a couple of seconds as tears overwhelmed her. Mon-El couldn’t do anything other than listening to her and rubbing her back absentmindedly. “I miss her so much. I miss her and—and it hurts, and I… I just want it to stop. I want it to stop hurting.” Mon-El could feel the tears wetting his cheeks too as he nodded.

“I know,” he whispered, trying to ignore how hoarse his voice sounded. “I know.”

* * *

**_20:05_ **

Alex was already asleep in Mon-El’s arms by the time he landed in front of Maggie’s apartment, carrying her up the steps. He’d already called Maggie before flying here to let her know that they were coming. Maggie was at first reluctant to take care of Alex, telling Mon-El that she couldn’t handle seeing her break herself apart over and over again, but he’d managed to convince her, telling that Alex needed a support right now. And that…that obviously couldn’t be him. Besides the fact that he wasn’t in a place where he could support _anyone,_ he had…he had stuff to take care of on his own.

Maggie answered the door almost immediately after Mon-El knocked, her face emotionless. Her arms were crossed over her chest as she looked at Alex’s sleeping figure, and then at Mon-El.

“You look horrible,” she said, more a statement than an opinion. Mon-El couldn’t even bother to roll his eyes at that as he pointed at Alex with his chin.

“She just fell asleep,” he whispered to not wake her up. “She was…tired. Where… Where do you want me to take her?” Maggie stepped back.

“Bedroom,” was all she said.

They were both silent as Mon-El walked Alex there and placed her on the bed right after Maggie pulled away the blanket. He saw her face soften as she wrapped it around her girlfriend’s shoulder, even caressing her hair before she pulled back.

Mon-El only spoke once Maggie closed the bedroom door behind them. He turned to the woman, clearing his throat to not sound so hoarse. “Thank you,” he said, trying to ignore the guilt churning in his stomach. “I just… I didn’t know where else to take her, and I…”

“I know,” Maggie interjected as she walked him to the door. “You’re in no place to take care of her.” Mon-El pressed his lips together as he avoided her gaze, despite feeling her watching him. “I… I should be thanking you too. For not leaving her in the alien bar. You didn’t have to do that.”

“No,” the Daxamite argued. “No, I had to. I… This is all my fault, Maggie.” He stopped to turn to the woman, finally looking at her eyes as he felt guilt gutting him. He continued when he saw she was ready to argue. “No, don’t… Don’t say that it isn’t. I caused Kara’s death. If she’d never met me…” He closed his eyes and gulped, realizing that he was clenching his fists when he felt his nails biting into his palm. He didn’t open them. “But Alex… She doesn’t deserve to…to break apart, to ruin her life. She deserves to live, and…and move on…be happy.” He took a deep breath, trying to pull himself together. “Please… Please stay with her and help her get better. I know… I know it’s asking for too much, but please. I know you care about her too.”

Maggie didn’t hesitate as she nodded, opening the door to Mon-El. “I do. I promise I’ll stay with her.” Mon-El could barely fake a smile at that.

“Thank you,” he muttered, blinking his tears away. “And… And call me if you need anything.” Maggie only nodded as an answer as she watched him walk out, but before he took even a couple of steps her voice stopped him.

“Hey, Mon-El?” He turned to him, waiting for her to continue. Her eyes were shining with honesty. “You know, you deserve to be happy too. _She’d_ want you to be happy.”

Mon-El knew who she was talking about without her needing to say her name. And if this happened a couple hours ago, let alone days, he would’ve argued, saying that it wasn’t true. That Kara wouldn’t care about him at all. But now, as he gulped and nodded, he knew Maggie’s words were true. And for the first time he didn’t argue.

“Yeah. I know.” That was all he could muster before he turned around to leave, yet he didn’t miss Maggie’s smile before he heard the door close behind him.

* * *

**_20:29_ **

Mon-El threw the last of his t-shirts into the backpack before zipping it up, pressing his lips together and clenching his fists to keep his fingers from shaking. His vision was blurry because of the tears pooled in his eyes, tears that he was trying desperately to keep from sliding down his cheeks, yet by the time he’d tidied up most of his stuff in his makeshift room at the DEO his cheeks were wet. He quickly wiped them before he straightened up and turned around to check if he’d forgotten anything.

He stopped when his eyes found J’onn, who was standing by the door with his arms crossed over his chest, watching Mon-El. He forced a smile at the Daxamite.

“Hey,” he said softly, almost too softly than Mon-El deserved. Especially considering what he’d done the last few weeks. How he completely left DEO and the protection of National City. He’d seen the news, he’d seen what everyone was asking: _Where are Supergirl and Valor?_ Some speculated that they’d left the city. Some said they were killed in the Dominator invasion. And some said they went into hiding and abandoned the city, not wanting to be superheroes anymore. There… There hadn’t been an official announcement from the DEO about it. But of course there wasn’t, because doing that would reveal the organization, and he knew J’onn couldn’t do it. It wasn’t J’onn’s fault that everyone in National City thought their superheroes abandoned them. It was his fault. He let them think like that. He was the one that stopped wearing the cape, he was the one that stopped protecting people. He was the one that abandoned the city, letting them think that…that Supergirl did that too. That Supergirl could ever do that.

That was something else he needed to make up for. He knew he could never fix it, any of it, but…but he needed to try. He at least needed to try…for her. Because she’d want him to try.

“You’re packing up?” J’onn asked, taking him out of his thoughts. Mon-El gulped and nodded, clutching the strap of the backpack in his hand. He cleared his throat.

“Yeah, I… I’m going _home_.” The words came out as a whisper, as if he was unsure of himself, and he wished… He wished he could’ve sounded more confident. He wished that he knew, for sure, that he was going home, that the house he had with Kara could still be a home even though the person that made it home wasn’t there anymore. But… But he didn’t know how it could be. He didn’t know how, without Kara, anything could be home. Because the house… The house was just a place. They could move out of there, get another place, and it would be his home too as long as he had Kara. Without her though…

Still, their loft was the closest thing he had to home, with all the memories of them inside. The memories he couldn’t run away from, not anymore. The memories he had to cherish, to remember, no matter how painful they were, so that she could be remembered. So that… So that even if she was physically gone her memory lived on, and she never truly died. That was what the right thing to do was, that was what she’d have wanted him to do. To…try and live on, but also carry her in his heart too. And he’d try. He’d try _so hard,_ with _everything_ that he had, to live up to what she wanted for him. What she believed about him.

“I think it’s time,” he continued when J’onn didn’t say anything, though Mon-El could see him smile. He nodded, letting the Daxamite speak. “And I… I want to be Valor again. I want to…go out and…and protect National City. Be a hero again, like…” _Like she’d want me to be. Like she believed I was._ He closed his eyes and took a deep breath to keep himself from crying, yet he could still feel the tears streaming down his face. It was hard to breathe because of the knot in his throat, and he could feel his heart protesting, struggling under the weight of all that pain, almost urging him to have a drink. To forget. To _not feel._ He quickly shut that voice. No. _No,_ he couldn’t do that. That was… That was who he’d been on Daxam. The kind of person who used alcohol and drugs to not feel. He’d changed since he came on earth. He’d changed since he met _Kara._ He’d been… He’d been acting just like he used to do on Daxam for the last couple of weeks, but that had to end. It wasn’t fair for Kara, it wasn’t fair for everything they’d been through together. Everything she believed he could be. It wasn’t fair for their love. As hard as it would be, as excruciating as the pain was, he couldn’t just lock it out with alcohol anymore. He needed to feel. If he ever wanted to move on, first he needed to let himself feel. That was the first step. And… And maybe he’d never move on. That was a possibility. Maybe he’d always feel this hollowness and agony inside, maybe he’d never be free of it. But he couldn’t know that if he didn’t try.

And Kara would want him to try. Above all else, she’d want him to try, to keep fighting, no matter what.

So he gulped away the thoughts about alcohol and let the pain in, let himself feel for the first time. He felt his vision blur with tears all over again, but he didn’t stop. He didn’t put his walls up again. Still… Still, when J’onn spoke, he welcomed the distraction almost too gladly.

“That’s good to hear, Mon-El,” he said, genuine relief audible in his voice. He forced a smile at the Daxamite. “I’m proud of you. And… And I know that she would be proud of you too.” Mon-El looked at his hand resting on the backpack, his other hand going to his neck almost absentmindedly, pulling out the necklace that had her engagement ring on it. He clutched it between his fingers, making sure it didn’t crush under his strength. He nodded, trying to get rid of the knot that seemed to have permanently lodged in his throat.

“Yeah, I… I hope so.” He opened his eyes to look at J’onn, and forced the next words out, knowing he needed to say them now or else he’d never get the courage again. “And I also think that…that it might be good for me if I…got help. From someone. If I could…talk to someone. Like a… Like a therapist.” He swallowed hard as he tried to get rid of the thoughts circling in his head, telling him that he was weak for needing help, that he should’ve been stronger, that he was nothing like her, she could be strong and she didn’t need anyone but he…

“Of course. I’ll make sure our best therapist is assigned to you,” J’onn reassured him almost immediately. Mon-El hadn’t even realized the Martian had stepped closer to him until he felt his hand on his shoulder. “You know, Mon-El, it’s not weak to admit you need help. What you’re going through… It’s one of the hardest things in the world, and it’s normal to feel like you can’t do it alone. There aren’t a lot of people that can, and frankly, I’d be afraid of the people that could. I’d wonder if they really cared at all in the first place.” Mon-El lifted his head to look at J’onn, only to see him smiling. “I think that it’s really strong and brave of you to ask for help. Not many people can, just because they’re afraid of how it might be perceived. But no one can truly get better if they don’t ask for that.” J’onn squeezed the Daxamite’s arm to offer him his support before pulling back. Mon-El felt gratitude filling his chest at the Martian’s words, and all he could do was nod, being afraid that he’d just collapse into sobs if he opened his mouth. J’onn continued when he presumably realized that. “We’ll talk about it in more detail tomorrow, okay? Now go home and rest. You need it.”

“Yeah,” Mon-El managed to say finally with a nod. “Thank you, J’onn. For…everything.” _For not judging me. For helping me. For standing by me, even when I didn’t deserve it._ He hoped that the Martian could read all of those either from his eyes or his mind. “And I’ll… I’ll rest. There’s just…one thing I need to do. Before I do that.” He could barely look at J’onn, yet he saw the understanding in his eyes. The Martian nodded with his face softening.

“Yeah.” He forced a smile. “Say hi from me too.”

Mon-El could only muster a “yeah” before J’onn left, leaving him with his thoughts.

* * *

**_21:10_ **

Mon-El placed the white lilies gently on the ground, which were shining almost too brightly on the dark earth. He straightened up, clearing his throat, and desperately tried to blink his tears away to see the scene clearly. As if there was anything to see other than a couple of bouquets of flowers and a nametag. There wasn’t even a gravestone yet, which was… Which wasn’t so uncommon with sudden deaths. And no one really could’ve guessed Supergirl’s death, right?

He looked over at the nametag, Kara’s name written almost too carelessly, too sloppily, that he felt an indescribable urge to grab a paper and replace it. Not that his handwriting was much better, but…but it just felt wrong. It felt wrong that someone could be so _careless_ at writing her name, Kara’s name, when she deserved the best of everything in the world.

_Kara Danvers._ It wasn’t even her real name.

“Hey,” he whispered, slipping away from his thoughts before they overwhelmed him. He cleared his throat when he sounded so hoarse. “I…I’m—“ He stopped before he said his name, realizing how dumb it sounded. Instead he changed his words. “J’onn said hi. To you.” He could feel shame churning in his stomach as he scolded himself, realizing how impersonal that sounded, how…how she deserved far more from him than a hi from someone else. He was her _fiancé._ Her _mate._ He should be giving her everything in the world, and yet…

“I’m sorry,” he managed to say finally before air got hitched in his throat. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, took several deep breaths to pull himself together. “I…I haven’t come here. To see you. I haven’t… I’m sorry.” He stopped when he felt his voice started to quiver. He could feel the tears sliding down his cheeks, he could feel them falling down, yet he couldn’t even take his hands out of his pockets and wipe them away, because he was afraid that…that if he unclenched his hands, if he didn’t dig his nails into his palms he’d fall apart right then and there, before he could say the things he came to say, and…and that couldn’t happen. He couldn’t let that happen. Yet he still let himself cry, let his voice shake, let the tears fall from his eyes, because he knew trying to hold even that back would kill him inside.

He ducked his chin and shook his head, trying desperately to keep his sobs down. “I just… I just missed you so much. I…miss you so much. And it hurts. Too much. I couldn’t… I couldn’t deal with it.” No matter how much he swallowed, it seemed like there was no way to get rid of the huge knot in his throat. “You believed that—that I was strong and…and I could handle everything, no matter how hard, but…but Kara, this is…this is too hard.” His voice started quivering all over again at her name. “I don’t… I don’t know how to live without you. I never thought…” He blinked and looked up, trying to keep himself from completely falling apart. “I never thought I’d have to find out, and now…now I’m not ready. I’m not… I _can’t_ spend a life, a…a forever without you.” He laughed tearfully, trying to ignore how fake or painful it sounded, and shook his head. “So I…I turned to the only way I knew how to…cope with it all. I ran away from the—the pain by drinking. By trying to forget. I continued even…even when it didn’t work because the alternative… Accepting that you were…gone…forever, it was…too much. Too painful. I…” He felt air getting hitched in his throat as he struggled to breathe. “I’m sorry. I should’ve been better. I should’ve been stronger and…and not gave up, and… _tried._ Just… _tried,_ like you would’ve done. But I just—failed. I failed _you_.” Tears blurred his vision all over again, so much so that he couldn’t even see where the grave was anymore. “You believed in me with—with all your heart and I…failed you. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He stopped when he felt his heart shatter, shut his eyes tightly and counted to ten, twenty, thirty, until he didn’t feel like he was dying anymore, until the pain wasn’t gutting him anymore, until he felt like he could speak before collapsing into sobs. He didn’t know how many seconds he’d counted, how much time it’d passed, but he was at least past fifty. Only then he opened his eyes and stepped forward to the grave, kneeling down. He wiped his tears away quickly.

“But I’ll be better,” he promised with a nod, hoping he sounded confident enough. “I’ll…I’ll try to be better. I won’t drink anymore. Ever. I won’t… I won’t use it as a coping mechanism. To forget. I’ll…I’ll remember.” He bit the inside of his cheek harshly before he continued. “I’ll remember you, and I’ll…I’ll honor your memory. No matter how hard it is, I’ll do it. I told J’onn that…that I might need help, and he’s gonna find someone for me… I promise, Kara, I won’t fail you again.” He looked at the grave, at the flowers, all blurring together in different colors. “I’ll be a hero again. I’ll protect people, like you would, and I’ll… I won’t let anything happen to your city. I’ll protect it with my life. I promise. I can’t… I can never fill your space, but I’ll still make sure that I do everything to protect this city. And I’ll make sure your memory lives on. I’ll make sure that you’re remembered, as Supergirl, as Kara Danvers, as…as Kara Zor-El. As yourself. I’ll remember all those parts of you, and I’ll make sure everyone else does too. I…I can’t give you everything you deserve, I wish I could but…I don’t have that kind of power, but I’ll still… I’m gonna work to do that every single day.” He put his hand on the dirt, where he assumed her body laid, before he gulped. His voice was so low that even he had trouble hearing himself, yet he could feel the words deep inside his chest.

“I love you, Kara Zor-El. With everything that I have, with…with everything that I am. I’ll always love you, and I will never forget you.” He grasped his necklace with her engagement ring with his hand. “You’ll… You’ll always be in my heart. I promise. I won’t… I won’t forget how you changed me, how you made me into someone…someone that I can be proud of. Someone that I can love. You’ve… You’ve made me a better man. You’ve pushed me to become a better man, and I’m so…so grateful for that. I’m so grateful for you, because I’ve… You’ve made me happier than I’d ever been. I won’t forget that. I was so lucky to have you. I was so lucky that you loved me. And I promise, I’ll… I’ll try to live up to your beliefs about me. I’ll try to be that person, that _hero_ you believed I can be. No matter what happens. No matter how hard things get. That’s… That’s the kind of fiancé, the kind of _mate_ that you deserve, and I promise that I’ll…I’ll try to be that person with all I have.” He took a deep breath, looking at the grave, tears falling down his cheeks non-stop, before he continued. “And I hope that…that you’ll be proud of me if we ever meet again. _When_ we meet again,” he quickly corrected himself, refusing to think there was no afterlife, no matter how illogical the idea of it was, and refusing to believe Kara was gone _forever_ and he’d never see her again. It was just… It was just impossible for such a good…soul to disappear. It was _impossible._ “I hope that I can make you proud one day, so that…so that you won’t think you wasted your time with me. So that I can be enough for you and…and deserve your love.” His fingers over the dirt curled into a fist as he stood up on shaky knees, trying desperately to hold himself together. “I love you.”

That was the last thing he said before he turned around to leave, tears streaming down his face continuously. It took him a couple of minutes to pull himself together enough to take out his phone and make a call as he made his way to his house, knowing flying wasn’t the best option for him. Besides… Besides he needed the walk. He needed the fresh air. As little as it helped, it was better than being holed up inside four walls, especially if that place had memories of Kara all over.

Savanna answered his call at the second ring. “Savanna Barret,” her tired voice rang in his ears. Mon-El swallowed before he answered, hoping he didn’t sound so hoarse.

“Hey, Savanna. I…I’m Mike.” Savanna stopped for a second at that before she answered, her voice filled with concern.

“Oh my God, Mike. Are you… Are you okay? You sound…” Mon-El couldn’t even muster a chuckle as he finished her sentence.

“Terrible?” He cleared his throat. “Yeah, it…it was a hard day for me.”

“Are you okay?” Savanna asked again, almost demanded to know, as if she wasn’t satisfied with his answer. Mon-El closed his eyes before he answered, knowing that his only option was lie to get Savanna to let it go. It wasn’t as if he could tell her he felt like someone was gutting him.

“I…I’m better,” he said finally. “I’ll be okay.” _Hopefully, even though it’s doubtful._ “But that’s… That’s not important. There’s…something I need to tell you.” He held his breath as he waited Savanna to answer. It didn’t take her long.

“Of course. Anything.”

“You…” He clenched his fist to gather up his courage and continued. “You said I had two weeks. To return back to work. It’s been eleven days. So… If that offer is still on table, I’d like to… I think I’d like to come back. I’d like to work with you and…Gemm.” He prayed with all he had left that his position was still his, because he honestly didn’t have it in him to look for a new job now. He couldn’t go through that on top of everything.

He could almost hear Savanna’s smile in her voice. “Yes. Of course you can. Your job is still yours.” She stopped for a second. “I’m so glad you decided to come back, Mike. You’re really good at your job.” Mon-El nodded until he realized Savanna couldn’t see him.

“Yeah,” he said, the word feeling dry on his lips, because…the thought of watching a TV show without Kara, let alone reviewing it—

_No_ , he stopped himself immediately before that thought got far. He could think about it later. Now… Now he should just be glad that he still had a job. He could take other things one step at a time, without…without drowning himself in the weight of everything, along with pain and grief, all over again.

“Thank you, Savanna. I…I owe you a lot.” He pressed his lips together as he gulped.

“That you do,” Savanna joked briefly before she continued. “But… But you can pay me back by getting better, okay? Just get better.”

“Okay,” Mon-El promised her, just as he’d just promised Kara. “I’ll try.” He blinked his tears away as he stood in front of his apartment, looking up to where his and Kara’s window was, and took a shaky breath. “Good night, Savanna.”

He barely heard her goodbye before ending the call. He gulped again, his hands—his whole body—shaking as he tried to gather up his courage. And then he stepped inside the apartment, to a new life, trying not to think about how horrible it would be.


	21. Ice Cream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo guess who managed to not be a lazy ass today and proofread another chapter. So, surprise, I guess? Lol :)
> 
> Anyway, hope y'all like this :)

**16 th of April, 2022**

**_13:48_ **

“Alex,” Kara told her sister as the woman reached up with another piece of cloth, ready to wipe her face, and grabbed her wrist. “I’m fine,” she reassured her, looking into the agent’s eyes to make sure she got when she was saying. “It’s just dirt. You know my skin is invincible.”

Alex’s eyes narrowed at that, so much so that even Mon-El winced from his place around the round table, yet still, despite the situation, a small smile appeared on his face. He leaned on the table.

“She’s telling the truth, Alex,” he said, making both Kara and Alex look at him, the cloth still clutched in the latter’s hand. “I checked her up before we came here. She’s not wounded.” In fact, after the pink haired alien and her two sidekicks disappeared, that was the first thing he’d done: making sure Kara was okay. At the end, she’d only started going out in the field two days ago, and it was the second time they faced against an alien—especially one this strong. Mon-El still couldn’t wrap his mind around it, and he was in the business for more than five years.

“And are you the one that studied physiology?” Alex shot back, crossing her arms. “No, I don’t think so.” With that she turned to Kara again, wiping away some rubbles that stuck to her forehead, before the Kryptonian stopped her again.

“Alex,” she warned, holding her sister’s arm until she caved in and dropped the cloth.

“Okay, okay!” she said, spreading her arms as she eyed J’onn and Chris walking to their side. “You’re fine. Got it. I was just…worried.” She crossed her arms, straightening up her shoulders. “You’ve _just_ started this—this superheroing, and going against someone like that so soon…” Kara’s face softened at that as she grabbed Alex’s hand, squeezing it reassuringly.

“Hey, Alex, I’m okay,” she said, confidence lacing her voice. “Besides, I wasn’t alone out there. You know Mon-El won’t let anything happen to me.” She turned to the Daxamite at that, her brows raised. “Right?”

“Right,” Mon-El agreed as he tugged her close. “Alex would rip off my head if I did that.” Pride filled his chest as Kara and Alex rolled their eyes almost simultaneously, the former smiling, the latter sighing exasperatedly. Mon-El managed to crack up a small smile himself before their attention was diverted to J’onn.

“Kara, Mon-El, are you okay?” J’onn asked immediately, worry twinkling in his eyes even though his voice was completely professional. Kara nodded as she clasped her hands in front of her.

“Yeah, just a bit tired. That was…”

“One hell of a fight,” Chris finished Kara’s sentence, a grin adorning his face. He was excitedly clutching the tablet in his hand in a way that reminded Mon-El too much of Winn. “I mean, have you seen how that girl just _created_ weapons out of thin air and used them so masterfully? It was just…” His voice trailed off when his eyes met with Alex. Mon-El pressed his lips together to keep himself from laughing as Chris paled, and from the way Kara ducked her chin and covered her mouth, her chest shaking slightly in his arms, he could see that she wasn’t much different. By the time Chris cleared his throat and straightened up, Mon-El was pretty sure he was grinning. “Like it jumped out of a video game,” he muttered quickly before J’onn took over, changing the subject.

“I see Mr. Rivera has also been kidnapped,” he said, his eyes turning to the two superheroes. Mon-El’s stomach coiled with guilt as he nodded.

“Yeah. While the…the pink haired alien, the one that looks like a woman…” Chris projected a photo of her, taken from a security footage, on the screen on the wall. “She prevented us from interfering while his partners did the job. At least that’s what we assume. It was… It got pretty messy out there.” He tightened his grip around Kara’s waist, reminding himself that she was okay, she was still with him, and she wasn’t hurt. Kara squeezed his hand back as if she needed the same reassurance. “I don’t know what kind of an alien that was, but it had some pretty high level tech. Centuries, maybe millennia away from what we have here.” Chris agreed with a nod, his expression slightly more serious, even though awe was shining in his eyes.

“I mean, she did create weapons out of nothing,” he reminded. Kara shook her head at that before Mon-El could answer.

“It wasn’t out of nothing. She had… She had some sort of device on her palms. That was what everything came from. We… We couldn’t get close enough to see what exactly it was.”

“Whatever it was,” Alex said, resting her elbow on the table with a thoughtful face, “I’m just glad you guys are okay. You could’ve gotten hurt, and badly.” Her eyes snapped at Kara. “From now on, no more jumping into a situation without assessing it first.” The Kryptonian rolled her eyes, but at the end she nodded.

“Fine, okay,” she sighed before she knitted her brows, a crinkle appearing on her forehead that indicated she was thinking about something. “But in any case, I don’t think she wanted to hurt us. She was just trying to keep us from getting into the house.” That perked up J’onn’s attention. He leaned forward, looking at her.

“What are you talking about?”

“I mean,” Kara started, looking up at Mon-El as if to get his support. He nodded at her to continue. “I mean, she never did anything to _hurt_ us. She blocked our way to the house. And… And not even only that. Think about the other instances they kidnapped people.” Chris pressed a couple of buttons on his tablet at that, showing the victims of the aliens. Destin Findlay, Veva Marcelyn Durant, and now Armando Rivera. Kara stepped forward, pointing at the first picture. “They grabbed Destin when he was alone in the house. They only cleared out his stuff, didn’t touch anything that belonged to his parents. If… If they wanted to hurt the family, they could’ve attacked when all of them were home, but they specifically kidnapped Destin. Same with Mrs. Durant. They attacked her when her husband wasn’t home. They were targeting _just_ her.” She turned around to face the group. “I’ve been in the reporting business long enough to know that this _can’t_ just be a coincidence.”

“The attacks aren’t at random,” Mon-El finished her words when their eyes met. If they hadn’t been in such a serious situation, he was pretty sure the confident, strong look on Kara’s face would’ve reminded him of _his_ Kara and made him smile, yet now he could only shake his head. “They are being _targeted_.”

Nobody said anything for a while, at least until Chris asked the question that was probably circling in all of their minds. “But…why? As far as I could find…” His fingers flew over the tablet again. “There isn’t any connection between them.” Mon-El frowned, trying to remember the woman’s words at them.

“After she stopped us, she said we’d be thanking them for what they were doing,” he said tentatively, unsurely. Kara nodded as she walked up to him and took his hand in hers.

“Yeah. She said they were ‘trying to keep the world from falling apart’, whatever that means.” She knitted her brows, a thoughtful look on her face. “Maybe… Maybe there’s something here that we don’t know, but they do. Because… I mean, I don’t know if you felt it too, but it seemed like…like they knew everything there was to know in the world.” Mon-El could just nod as he remembered the last look the pink haired woman sent him, and tried not to shiver. “There might be something we’re missing.”

“That makes sense,” J’onn said without even hesitation before turning to Chris. “Chris, look into it once again, get a team of analysts to help you. Go in deep, look through every bit of information you can find, no matter how unrelated they might seem.” Chris nodded with a gulp as the Martian turned to Alex this time. “Alex, grab a team of agents and go to Mr. Rivera’s house, do a thorough check. Something that we find there might help us.” Alex’s eyes filled with determination as she nodded as well, and she and Chris left before J’onn turned to the two superheroes this time. His eyes were thoughtful before he spoke. “You two… Go home and rest. You deserved it.”

“But J’onn—“ Kara started to object, stepping forward, but J’onn stopped her.

“There isn’t anything you can help us with now, Miss Danvers. Besides, you just came out of an excruciating fight. You _need_ to rest.” His eyes turned to Mon-El, stopping until he saw the Daxamite nod. “We’ll call you if we need you.” That was the Martian’s last words before he turned around to leave. Kara just stared at his back for a couple of seconds before she threw her hands up, turning to Mon-El.

“Unbelievable. They can’t just expect us to sit around and do nothing while these aliens are _kidnapping_ people.” Mon-El couldn’t help laughing at that, which just made Kara narrow her eyes. “Don’t laugh. I’m being serious.”

Mon-El was still grinning as he grabbed Kara’s arms and tugged her close. “I know, I know. But we won’t sit around, okay?” He shrugged almost nonchalantly. “Someone does need to write about what just happened at Mr. Rivera’s house and warn the public again. And I can think of a certain editor in chief that can do that.” He flashed Kara a smile, seeing realization dawn on her. She stared up at Mon-El in hesitation for a couple of seconds before she gave up and sighed.

“Okay, okay, fine,” she said, nodding. “We’ll go rest, _and_ I will write that article.” Mon-El couldn’t help grinning at her as he held her hand, lacing their fingers together.

“Good,” he said before he leaned down, pressing a small kiss on Kara’s lips. He could feel her smiling before he even pulled back. “Now let’s go home.”

* * *

**_17:13_ **

“Hey, babe,” Mon-El whispered to Kara softly as he wrapped a blanket around her shoulders. The Kryptonian looked up from her spot on the couch, her laptop resting on her knees, and smiled.

“Hey yourself,” she said as she scooted forward, creating a space for Mon-El to sit behind her. He leaned down, stealing a kiss from her lips before settling down behind her, wrapping one arm around her waist to pull her to him, the other going up to her shoulder and rubbing it. The corners of his lips tipped up when she leaned back and rested her head against his chest.

“How’s the article going?” Mon-El asked, resting his chin on her head and looking down at the computer. Kara huffed, shutting the lid of her laptop before putting it to the coffee table.

“Slow,” she admitted as she turned around in Mon-El’s arms to face him. “I just realized my only sources for the fight with those aliens are Supergirl and Valor, and for news this big, it might not be enough.” She ran her fingers through her hair, her other hand resting on Mon-El’s, holding it almost absentmindedly. Her knee brushed his leg as she pulled her leg under herself. “I’m just worried people won’t take it seriously enough and be on alert.”

“Hey,” Mon-El whispered, running his fingers over her bare arm. Kara lifted her head at that, her blue eyes worried as she nibbled with her bottom lip. “Your article will be amazing,” he reassured her, looking into her eyes. “As someone who’s read what you’ve written before, trust me when I say this: You always find a way to make people care about what you write. This won’t be any different. Trust me and yourself on that, okay?” He placed his finger under her chin to tip her head up slightly, flashing a smile at her. Kara just stared at him for a couple of seconds before a smile pulled her lips too. She nodded.

“You’re right,” she said, rubbing her temples briefly. “I got this. I just… I think I need a small break from it.” She stared at her laptop for a couple of seconds as if she wanted to set it on fire. There was a smile on Mon-El’s face as he watched her before he leaned back, grabbing the bag of stuff he just bought from a supermarket. He wanted to cook a dinner for Kara, so he’d left briefly while she wrote, and along the way he didn’t forget to get three cartoons of caramel ice cream. Three, because there was no way to know when Kara would need an extra one. He remembered one day when she was exceptionally grumpy after Snapper refused an article she worked on for days, she made him go and get more ice cream for her at ten p.m. He literally had to fly around the city twice before he found an open market, just as he was starting to consider breaking into one and stealing it. It would be okay as long as he left the money, right? But ever since then, he always kept extra ice cream at home so that Kara could have as much as she needed anytime.

“Then how about I interest you to some ice cream?” he said, pulling the cartoons out of the bag. Kara’s ears perked up at that as she immediately turned to him. He pulled out the third box. “I also got an extra one, just in case.” He lifted his brows as he looked at the Kryptonian, who was staring at the ice cream like it was the most beautiful thing she’d seen on earth. She shook her head as she grabbed one of the boxes from him.

“You’re amazing,” she said as Mon-El took out the spoons too. “You’re the best.” She eyed the third cartoon of ice cream in his hand before taking that too, placing it next to her laptop. Mon-El couldn’t help chuckling at that, yet even that wasn’t enough to get Kara to glare at him. “You’re great.”

“Yeah,” Mon-El said as he leaned back on the couch, throwing his arm to the back of it. “I know.” This time, Kara _did_ glare at his smug grin as she opened the first cartoon, but apparently decided to let it go when she dived into the ice cream. She closed her eyes and moaned happily.

“How do you always know exactly what I need?” she asked, opening her eyes to look at him. Mon-El just smiled at that and shrugged as she continued. “It’s like… It’s like magic. I need a hug, and suddenly you’re there, offering to cuddle on the couch. I need some cheering up and you put my favorite musical on and we watch it together. I’m exhausted after superheroing, and you wrap a blanket around my shoulders. I’m frustrated about an article and you give me ice cream. _Two_ cartoons of it.” She shook her head. “Even _Alex_ can’t do that, and she’s known me for years.”

_Well,_ Mon-El couldn’t help thinking, _I did spend years learning everything about you._

“I just… I just want to make you happy, you know,” he said, reaching forward and rubbing her knee. “And if that means I have to spend some time and effort to learn what you need, then so be it.” Kara flashed him a smile as she nodded without hesitation.

“Well, you do. Make me happy, I mean.” She ducked her chin and knitted her brows, a crinkle appearing between them as if she was contemplating something. Mon-El frowned.

“Kara? Is everything okay?” he couldn’t help asking, wondering why her smile dissipated. Kara shook her head.

“Yeah, I just…” She lifted her head to look at him. “Do you remember the day we first met, officially? On the… On the rooftop?” Mon-El’s shoulders tensed as he nodded, his mind already guessing what she was talking about as she cleared her throat. She even put her ice cream aside, which was…well, which wasn’t a good sign, because it meant this was something _serious._

“You asked me if I was happy then,” she continued, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. Mon-El wasn’t even sure he was breathing as he nodded. “And I said that… I said that I’ve never been happier in my life.” She stopped for a second, fidgeting with her fingers uncomfortably before she continued. “I was wrong.”

Mon-El could only look at her eyes as she took a deep breath and started explaining. She ducked her chin briefly. “I didn’t know that I was wrong then, but I was. I thought I was happy, I thought I had everything I could ever want, but I hadn’t realized… I hadn’t realized how much I wanted… _this_. Needed this. To feel normal around someone, to not have to hold back, to be able to hug or kiss or dance or cuddle with someone without worrying about hurting them. I’ve been on earth for so long that…that I think I’d accepted I would never be able to have that so that I could be happy, I could feel happy without feeling like I was missing something. Pretending like I was happy was far easier than accepting I would never be able to have everything I wanted.” Her eyes bore into Mon-El’s as she stopped, pressing her lips together, before she flashed him a small smile. “That was until I met you,” she confessed. “And now… Now I do have everything I wanted in life. I have an amazing job at CatCo. I’m using my powers to help people. I have my friends and family supporting me, and I have… _you._ I have someone that makes me feel normal, like I belong somewhere, like I fit in without needing to change or adapt. Right now, I truly am happier than I’ve ever been, and that’s all thanks to you.” She cleared her throat. “I just wanted you to know that.”

Mon-El blinked desperately to get rid of his tears when his vision blurred, yet it was almost impossible. He swallowed hard once, twice, trying to loosen the knot in his throat, but Kara’s words… They’d hit him right in the chest, in the heart. They’d wrapped around him and put his broken pieces together, making him feel whole again. Whole and…and happy. Because Kara was happy with him. She was not only happy with him, but she was…she was _happier_ than she’d ever been. He’d truly made her happy. Which meant… Which meant he hadn’t completely ruined her life when he caused her death, he hadn’t taken her happiness from her. He’d… Despite the fact that she’d died, he’d made her happy, and…and he couldn’t even speak as Kara frowned and leaned forward, cupping his cheek.

“Hey, Mon-El, are you okay?” she asked, worry tinting her voice. “Did I… Did I say something wrong?”

_No, Rao, no,_ he thought as he shook his head. _You’ve just made me the happiest man on earth._ He wanted to say the words yet somehow he couldn’t find his voice, so instead he opted to lean forward and kiss her, hoping it could express everything he was feeling. He gently ran his fingers through her hair before he pulled back and rested his forehead against it.

“No,” he whispered finally, answering her question, “you didn’t. You said all the right things.” Kara blinked bewilderedly at first as she looked at him, but then a smile spread on her face. She dropped her hand from his face to her shoulder, tugging at his plaid shirt.

“Good. Good.” She cleared her throat to change the subject. “Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, how about you prepare the dinner while I enjoy my ice cream here?” she offered, an innocent smile playing on her face. Mon-El couldn’t help chuckling at that as he shook his head and nodded. _Some things never change._

“Leave some for me too, don’t finish all of it,” Mon-El warned her as he stood up, grabbing the market bag and heading for the kitchen. Kara’s smile was big enough to light up the whole city.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” she chirped, making Mon-El roll his eyes exasperatedly, knowing that was one big lie. Yet still, there was a smile plastered on his face as he took out the ingredients and started preparing their dinner.

* * *

**17 th of April, 2022**

**_18:42_ **

“So, Mon-El,” Maggie said as she leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table, as Mon-El took a sip from his club soda. He turned to her, only to come face to face with an amused smile. “You and Kara, huh?”

Mon-El felt the corners of his lips tip up at that as he tried to hide his smile with his club soda, yet from the look Alex gave him across the table, he could see that he was failing. He decided to focus on Maggie’s words to avoid Alex’s gaze.

“I would say I never would’ve guessed it, but it would be a lie.”

“Oh?” Mon-El couldn’t help saying, arching his brow. Maggie chuckled as Alex covered her face with her palm.

“Yeah,” she continued, bumping her shoulder with her girlfriend’s. “I’ve been telling Alex that you two would be perfect for each other, grilling her to introduce you and Kara.” Mon-El couldn’t help the chuckle that burst out of his chest, at least until he saw Alex glaring at him. The woman looked at Maggie with an accusing gaze.

“Maggie, I _told_ you not to mention it again, didn’t I?” She crossed her arms over her chest, pulling back when Maggie tried to hold her shoulder. Maggie only laughed at that as she shook her head.

“I’m sorry. It was just so good to pass,” she admitted. “How ironic it is that all this time Alex have said you’d _hate_ each other, you ended up in a happy relationship together. Dana can attest to that, right?” Mon-El lifted his brows as he turned to the blond woman, who was looking at them over her water with overly enthusiastic gaze. She lifted her hands in the air.

“Oh, don’t involve me in this,” she said, taking a sip from her water. “I might’ve supported Maggie from the beginning, but I think I’d just rather sit here and watch you guys.” Alex rolled her eyes at that as she shot Dana a glare before turning to Maggie.

“I never said they wouldn’t work,” she defended herself, to which Maggie just lifted her brows with disbelief. Mon-El had to take a huge gulp from his club soda to keep himself from chuckling, and one glance ad Dana told him that she was enjoying it as much as he was. “I just… I didn’t want Kara to involved in all the alien madness! I was trying to _protect_ her.” Her shoulders slumped as she glanced at Mon-El, something like regret flickering in her eyes. And for someone who didn’t like to be wrong most of the time, that was a lot. “Granted, I might not have gone about it in the right way, but…” She pushed her hair away.

“Hey, Alex,” Mon-El said as he leaned forward, dropping his club soda on the table for a moment. “You were just trying to look out for Kara. I understand.”

“Still,” Alex said with an almost nonchalant tone. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. Or… Or said that you’d hurt Kara eventually.”

Mon-El wasn’t sure whether it was Dana or Maggie that spurted out their drink first. But it was the latter that spoke first, whirling around to face Alex.

“You said what to who?” she asked, her voice incredulous. Alex shot her a glare, but didn’t say anything as she continued. “You told Kara that Mon-El would…”

“I was angry!” Alex defended herself as one corner of Mon-El’s lips tipped up. “I mean, they were keeping their relationship from me. And… And Kara was superheroing. I didn’t _think_.” She turned to Mon-El, an apologetic look in her eyes. “I’m sorry. It’s obvious how much you, um, care about her.” The Daxamite nodded at her with a small smile.

“Yeah, I do.” He straightened up his shoulders. “Alex, I promise, I won’t let anyone hurt Kara. Especially me. You can trust me on that. I…I really do care about her.” _I love her. With everything that I have, I love her._ He hoped Alex could see the honesty in his eyes as he looked up at her. She didn’t say anything for a second, just searching his face, before Dana interrupted.

“Well, duh,” she said as if it was something so obvious. “I mean, I don’t know about you two, but have you seen the way he looks at Kara? I’m gonna sound really cheesy here, but it’s like she’s the light of his life.” Mon-El rolled his eyes at that, yet he couldn’t help chuckling too, because…because it was true. Kara really _was_ the light of his life, and now that he knew what life was like _without_ her, he was even surer of that. He tried to shrug nonchalantly as Dana continued. “Sometimes I can’t help wishing my husband looked at me like that too.” Her eyes were shining, reflecting her smile, as she looked at Mon-El. “So you have nothing to worry about, Alex. If Mon-El can’t protect Kara, or make her happy, I don’t know who can.”

“Yeah,” Alex admitted without even hesitating, causing Mon-El to gape at him. She narrowed her eyes. “Oh, don’t look at me like that. I apologized for all I’ve told you, haven’t I? And besides…” She cleared her throat, squeezing Maggie’s hand absentmindedly. “I’ve truly never seen Kara happier before. It’s like… It’s like there’s this light, this…comfort and ease in her that hasn’t been there, ever. Which makes me think Maggie was right all along.” She glanced at her girlfriend, who had a proud but joyful grin on her face. “Maybe you two do belong together.” Mon-El felt his chest swell with happiness at that as his throat knotted. All he could do was nod, because he not only didn’t know what to say…but what _could_ be said anyway? He’d just gotten Kara’s sister’s approval, Winn already drooled almost every time he saw him so the best friend part was done too, and Kara had said that she felt happier with him than she’d ever been. But most of all… Most of all he had Kara back. He had the love of his life back. What more could he ask for?

“Anyway,” he said finally, shaking his head and tried to slip away from his thoughts before he focused on Dana. “All that confessing and apologizing was good and all, but I need to ask you something.” The woman frowned at the seriousness in Mon-El’s voice. “I haven’t been around DEO much…”

“I wonder why,” Maggie muttered under her breath at that, earning a glare from him before he decided to ignore it and continued.

“So I couldn’t see Chris. But…have we made any progress finding a connection between the victims of those aliens? Or…their identities?” The way Alex’s face fell at that was answer enough for Mon-El.

“No,” she sighed, running her hand through her hair. “And Chris had looked at literally anything, even going so far as checking their favorite stuff. But…nothing. None of it matches up.” She seemed truly frustrated as she clenched her fist.

“Hey,” Maggie mumbled when she saw that, reaching for Alex’s hand and uncurling her fingers. “You’ll find them, Danvers. _We_ will find them. Don’t worry.” Alex leaned toward her girlfriend, letting her support in, before she huffed.

“I’m just… It makes me angry that I can’t figure this out. These aliens… They’ve been kidnapping people, destroying their and their families’ lives, and we have nothing to stop them. They’re just…too powerful. I’m just afraid they’ll hurt someone else before we can do something about it.”

“They won’t,” Dana promised, almost too confidently, her hand on her belly. “With Valor and Supergirl by our side,” she winked at Mon-El, “they don’t stand a chance against us.” The Daxamite was just about to smile at that when his phone started ringing. Frowning he took it out, not expecting a call.

A smile spread on his lips when he saw who it was. “Sorry, guys, I have to take this,” he said as he stood up. Dana arched her brows.

“It’s Kara, right?” she asked, though probably his smile was enough indication of that. “Don’t tell me you forgot a date night.” Mon-El scoffed with a frown.

“Of course not. We don’t go on dates every single night.” He could see the disbelieving looks Dana and Alex sent his way as he stepped away from the table, answered Kara’s call, and brought the phone to his ear.

“Hey, babe,” he chirped, tucking his hand into his pockets. He could feel a smile tugging his lips, but…

But it almost immediately disappeared the moment he heard Kara’s hushed voice. “Mon-El,” she whispered, and Mon-El could hear her shuffling through something. He frowned as his body immediately went into an alarmed mode.

“Kara? Are you okay?” he asked immediately, straightening up his shoulder, getting ready to rush out of the alien bar if she said she needed him. If she said there was something wrong.

“No,” Kara said, making Mon-El’s eyes go wide as he stepped forward, before she corrected herself. “I mean, yes, I’m fine. For now. But… But I think there’s someone in the building. I can hear the sound of their guns, I think they’re alien.” She took a deep breath. “How fast can you get here?” Mon-El only had one second to feel proud at the confidence in her voice, at the fact that she was sure he’d be there for her, before he immediately went into action.

“No more than a minute,” he promised her as he ended the call and turned to the table. Alex and Maggie had been laughing at something, but their laughs dissipated the moment they saw the serious look on his face. Alex immediately squared her shoulders.

“There’s someone in Kara’s apartment,” he warned them, seeing fear seep into Alex’s eyes before she went into work mode. “I’m going there. I’ll let you know if I need you.” She nodded at Mon-El’s words before he spun around and ran out of the alien bar, and he was in the air before he even realized it.

He arrived in Kara’s apartment less than thirty seconds after their call. The window was left open, probably by Kara, so he didn’t lose time with doors as he got in. If he knew Kara, she was probably listening to his arrival anyway.

And surely enough, her eyes had found him the moment he landed. She was in her Supergirl suit, standing in the middle of her living room, her body facing the door. He quickly went next to her.

“Are you okay?” he asked, grasping her shoulder maybe a bit too tightly than normal, his eyes traveling on her body, looking for any wounds. A part of him knew that she was basically invincible, but that was overpowered by the fear of her safety, the fear of losing her. He couldn’t relax until he felt Kara’s hand over his, gripping it reassuringly as if to show her that yes, she was fine. She offered him a small, tight smile.

“I’m fine, Mon-El. I didn’t face them yet.” Relief washed over Mon-El as he gulped and nodded, lacing their fingers together, reminding himself that she was there and fine. He had to keep himself from hugging her as he forced himself to focus on the situation at hand.

“Good. Good. Do you know—“ Before he could ask where the aliens were, whether she could hear them, a blast came from the door, making both of them jump. They turned towards the door, Mon-El’s arm covering Kara protectively as they stood side by side to see who came through.

The woman’s pink hair was the first thing Mon-El saw as she pushed open the door, entering the house, her hand extended in front of her. There was a gun in it—a gun that was either alien or came from the future. But that wasn’t what made the Daxamite completely freeze in place as she pointed the gun at Kara. It was her eyes, it was her voice, it was…it was the people flanking her. Because they didn’t have their masks on now. Because he finally understood why they seemed so familiar. Because he understood… He understood what she meant back in that alley when she said they were doing what they must do to keep the world from falling apart.

“Kara Zor-El,” the woman—the very, very familiar woman—said as her blue eyes focused on the Kryptonian, completely devoid of emotion. “You’re coming with us.” She jutted her chin in the way Mon-El saw her do way too many times. And if he had to guess whether the gun was alien or from the future, he’d put all his money to the latter.

Because this was Sara Lance. The captain of the Waverider, the Time Master, and the two men next to him…Mick Rory and Jefferson Jackson, they were her team.

They were Time Masters, tracking time aberrations throughout history to fix them, and now… Now they were after Kara.


	22. Time Aberration

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all!
> 
> Okay, I just wanted to warn you beforehand, but, well... This chapter and the ones coming after it is gonna be angsty. Like super angsty. Like I'm pretty sure sometime during writing them I'd cried, and that says a lot coming from someone who barely cries at anything. So. Just wanted to say that.
> 
> But, if I have to be honest, they're also some of my fave chapters in the whole story, so there's also that. I don't know if it's just because I love angst, or because they are actually good, but oh well. I'll let you decide I guess :)
> 
> Anyway, hope y'all like this!

**17 th of April, 2022**

**_19:19_ **

“ _No_.” The word came out of Mon-El’s mouth in a whisper as he stepped forward, trying to cover Kara with his body. He could feel his heart slamming against his ribs, every heartbeat ringing in his ears, making the situation…everything…all of it…worse. “No,” he croaked again, this time more forcefully, as he curled his fingers into fists. His knees and arms were shaking so much that it was a miracle he was still standing, but…but he had to stand. He had to stand his ground. He couldn’t give up, he couldn’t cave in, not now. Not when…

“Mon-El,” he heard Kara whisper from behind, grabbing his arm to step next to him, but he didn’t let her. He _couldn’t_ let her. He had to shield her, to keep her as far away from Sara as possible. To keep her from…from getting hurt or…kidnapped— _destroyed._ Because that must’ve been what Sara and the others doing. Fixing the aberrations by… _destroying_ them. Destroying _…_

No. _No._ He couldn’t let it happen. He couldn’t let Kara… He couldn’t let them take Kara, he couldn’t let them kill her. Not again. He couldn’t lose her again. He’d just… He’d just gotten her back. He’d… They’d just started a relationship, started building a _life_ together. They’d… They’d gotten their forever back. They were _happy_. After a year of—of loneliness and…hollowness… _pain_ …he was finally happy. He’d finally found happiness again, he’d found _her_ again. She couldn’t go away, she couldn’t slip away from his fingers again so soon after that. They’d barely spent weeks together. It wasn’t… It wasn’t enough, it wasn’t even close to being enough. She couldn’t just…

“Kara, stay back,” he ordered, hating how his voice shook, how it broke mid-sentence, as he pushed her behind him again. “Stay behind me.” He fixed his gaze on Sara as he shook his head, desperation tinting his voice. “You won’t take her,” he said, wishing he’d sound more confident and less helpless. Wishing he could _feel_ more confident, that he could know… He could know he wouldn’t be losing Kara again. That he would be able to protect her, save her, keep her with him. That they would be _together_.

He felt his nails bite into his palm as Sara stepped into the house, closing the door behind her. She flipped her pink ponytail over her shoulder as she stared down at Mon-El, her eyes showing no sign of fear or hesitation.

“Step aside, Mon-El,” she said, not lowering the gun. “We don’t want to hurt you. We want _her_.”

“No,” Mon-El almost hissed as he stepped back, his arms going around Kara protectively. He shook his head. “You’re not getting her. She’s… She’s staying with me.” He felt Kara’s hand on his back, ready to step forward again, but he blocked her way. _No._ “Stay there, Kara.”

“How does she know your name?” she asked from behind him, but fortunately, for once, listened and stepped back. Mon-El gulped, unable to find an answer, as she watched Sara step to the side, her gun still pointed at them— _him_. Mon-El shifted his position to block Kara from her view again before she stopped.

“You know why we’re doing this,” she told Mon-El, her voice calm and steady, as if she was _sure_ she’d get her way, as if she was sure she’d get to Kara and…

_“No,”_ Mon-El choked out, but Sara ignored him as she continued.

“You know we have to do this. You remember.” She’d said it so matter-of-factly that there was no point for him to argue. He couldn’t even say a word, let alone form logical sentences. The only word circling his head was _no._ No, they couldn’t take Kara. No, she couldn’t die again. No, he couldn’t lose her again. It would _kill_ him. If the first time hadn’t killed him already, now it would truly kill him.

“No, she’ll stay. She’s staying.” He stepped back, trying to put as much distance between Kara and Sara. “I…I don’t care about the timeline, I don’t…I don’t care what will happen if you don’t take her. She’s _not going anywhere_.”

“Mon-El…” Kara whispered from behind, grabbing his hand and squeezing it tightly, but he just shook his head.

“I won’t let you take her,” he said, wishing his voice didn’t shake as much as it did. Because he knew… He knew if Sara just blasted off his head with a gun right now, if she found a way to knock him out, she could get to Kara. She could get to her, she could take her away, and there was nothing… There was nothing he could do to stop that. Kara would be gone… _again._

“I won’t,” he repeated, shaking his heat fervently, tears starting to threaten his eyes. At that he saw Mick step forward, a gun in his hand too, but Sara stopped him with a gesture. She was watching Mon-El, studying him, trying to decide what was the best way to move forward. Finally, after a couple of seconds she lowered her hand, the gun disappearing in the device on her palm.

Relief washed over Mon-El at that, so much so that his knees almost buckled, but he kept his stance. He had to keep his stance, he had to be alert, he couldn’t just slip into his fear and let panic take over. He needed to focus. He _needed_ his focus to protect Kara. So he clenched his fists, straightened up, and swallowed to get rid of the knot in his throat as he kept his eyes on Sara.

“You don’t have a choice, Mon-El,” she told him, something like pain and anger flickering in her eyes. She tried to step forward, at least until she saw how Mon-El tensed at that. She stopped, lifting her chin, her icy gaze boring into the Daxamite. “You know that as well as I do,” she continued.

“No,” Mon-El tried to say, but Sara just kept talking, ignoring his words.

“We need to put back the timeline, as well as we can, to its original version. That means—“

“No _—_ “

“Getting rid of the time aberrations.”

“ _No,_ I—“

“ _She_ is a time aberration,” Sara ended her words forcefully, almost spitting out the last word. Mon-El could see that she was clenching her fist, yet he didn’t care, _he didn’t care,_ he didn’t care about anything but protecting Kara. Even if that meant he’d need to fight Sara. Even if that meant he’d die. “She died in the original timeline. We _cannot_ let her live.” Mon-El shook his head fervently at that, opening his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He couldn’t even find his voice as he felt a knot lodge in his throat. He tried to take a deep breath, tried to pull himself together—

“Mon-El,” he heard Kara whisper from behind him, grasping his shoulder. “Wh-what do they mean?” The fear in Kara’s voice succeeded in pulling him back to reality, and he gulped.

“Kara, let me handle this,” he whispered slowly, pronouncing every syllable. He was afraid that if he spoke any faster, panic would take over, and he wouldn’t be able to think clearly. “Just…let me handle this. Get out of here. I got this.” He really hoped that was true as he pushed Kara back, never turning away from Sara. “Go!” Yet before Kara could even hesitate about that—and Mon-El knew she’d hesitate, not wanting to leave him alone there—Sara gestured at Mick next to him, who pointed his gun at Mon-El’s head.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, sweetheart,” he said. Mon-El felt Kara freeze behind him. “We don’t want to hurt him, but that doesn’t mean we _won’t_.” For a second the whole house went silent, at least until Kara lurched forward.

“No, stop!” she yelled, trying to walk around, to get in front of Mon-El. His hand shot forward immediately as his heart plummeted in his chest. He stopped Kara before she could get far, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her back.

“Kara, stay back!” he yelled at h34, not being able to control his voice. “Stay behind me.”

“Mon-El, he is—“ Kara started to object but he stopped her.

“Just do what I say!” he yelled, so much so that Kara flinched. He wasn’t looking at her—he refused to take his eyes off of Sara, Mick, and Jax, refused to give them the opportunity to get to Kara—yet still he could feel the hurt in her gaze as she stared at him. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, reminding himself that he wasn’t angry at Kara. He was angry at…Sara, Time Masters, Rhea, and…and this situation that forced himself to let Kara go all over again. “Do what I say and stay behind me, Kara, please. _Please.”_ He inhaled deeply, trying to calm down; as impossible as it was he needed to calm down. He needed to protect Kara. Whatever it took, he needed to _protect Kara._ He couldn’t…

Even thinking about it made Mon-El’s stomach twist so badly that he felt sick. He forced himself to focus on Sara, to ignore the turmoil of emotions and tighten his grip around Kara’s wrist. He hadn’t even realized he was holding her wrist until he squeezed it, yet he couldn’t let it go. He couldn’t let her go. As ridiculous as it sounded, it felt like… It felt like if he just grasped her hand tightly enough she’d stay with him. She wouldn’t leave him.

“Mick,” Sara whispered, pulling Mon-El’s attention from Kara to herself. “Put the gun down. We can’t hurt Mon-El. You know that.” She shot him a look, as if conveying silent information, until Mick lowered his gun. Mon-El couldn’t even relax at that as he saw Sara turn to him.

“You know the right thing to do, Mon-El,” she said so softly that…that it almost seemed like she knew what he was thinking. He could only gulp, not being able to find anything to say, as she continued. “You’re a hero. You know the consequences of changing time. This is bigger than any of us.” Her eyes found Kara, who was still standing behind Mon-El with her wrist in his hand, before she continued. Mon-El didn’t miss the brief pain that flickered in her eyes. “This is bigger than love.” She stopped for a second, her gaze on the Daxamite. Mon-El could feel his heart pounding in his chest, slamming against his ribs; he could feel his body shuddering, yet he still couldn’t do anything as Sara turned around to the door.

“Let’s get out of here. We’ll come back later,” she said, and in a matter of seconds… In a matter of seconds all three were gone. They’d walked out of the door before either Mon-El or Kara could do anything, shutting it behind. Mon-El couldn’t even move. He just stared at the door, his heart thundering in his chest, Sara’s words circling in his mind. _You know the consequences of changing time. This is bigger than any of us. This is bigger than love._

The consequences of changing time… Keeping the world from falling apart… _No._

He felt tears filling his eyes as he felt the world starting to spin around him. No. _No._ It was impossible. There couldn’t be… There couldn’t have been a big consequence. They’d checked. He and J’onn… They’d checked, they’d made sure that what Rhea did didn’t have consequences. He should be able to stay, he _could_ stay. He could… He could live in this timeline, he could be with Kara, they could build a life. That was what J’onn said. No big consequences. That was what… That was how it should’ve been. He shouldn’t have to…

He shouldn’t have to lose Kara all over again.

His knees buckled at that thought, and he was sure if it wasn’t for the two arms that immediately wrapped around his chest he would’ve fallen on the floor. No. It couldn’t be true. What Sara said… It couldn’t be true. Kara didn’t have to die. She didn’t have to be destroyed to keep the…the timeline intact, because the timeline was already intact. She didn’t have to die all over again. There wasn’t a big consequence. There _wasn’t._ And without something that big… It wasn’t worth Kara’s death.

Nothing— _nothing_ —could be worth Kara’s death at this point. _Nothing_ could be worth losing her.

He felt a hand cup his cheek, turning his head to somewhere, yet his vision was so blurry that he couldn’t see anything. It was all… It was all a blur of brown and red, blue and gold. He couldn’t see or focus on anything. All he knew was… All he knew was that he couldn’t live another forever without Kara. He couldn’t survive losing her again. She was… She was everything to him. She was his everything. His happiness, his smile, his laugh, his normal, his home, his…life. He’d already had to live a year without those, and that almost crushed him. He almost shattered under the weight of all that pain and hollowness, because it was too heavy, way too heavy for him to bear. He’d only… He’d only just started to put back his shattered pieces together, with Kara. He’d just gotten her back. He needed her. At this point it wasn’t even about wanting her or loving her. _He needed her._ He needed her in his life, because the alternative… It was too painful. Way too painful. And he… He shouldn’t have to go through that again. They had their second chance. Kara and he… They’d gotten their second chance, something that they deserved, something their _love_ deserved. They were lovers, mates, _soulmates,_ whatever people called it, and they deserved a life together. A forever together. They didn’t…

He couldn’t lose her again. She couldn’t die again. She didn’t deserve it. _He_ didn’t deserve it.

They should’ve had their forever.

“Mon-El.” He heard someone calling her name, the familiar voice cutting through his thoughts. It was coming from right in front of him. And the hand… The hand that had been stroking his cheek, it’d now moved to the nape of his neck, rubbing it, trying to bring him back—snap him out of whatever he was in. And he tried to do that. He tried to snap out of it, it wasn’t like he wasn’t _trying._ It was just… It was too painful. _Too painful._

“Mon-El, hey, look at me,” the voice begged. _Kara,_ his mind supplied, as if it could’ve been anyone else anyway. “Look at me. I’m here. I’m right here. Hey.” She squeezed his shoulder like she was trying to pull him to her. “Hey, I’m here.” Mon-El tried to focus on her voice as he spoke, focus on her eyes, on _her_ instead of…instead of all those destructive thoughts. He tried to snap out of them. He tried to pull himself together, to keep the shattered pieces of his heart together. Normally it would be easy, a couple of days ago he’d so easily snap out of something with Kara’s help. And his pieces… With every day that passed the glue that held his pieces got stronger, helping him go on, helping him live. But now… Now they’d been weaker than ever, threatening to fall apart any second. So instead of all of those he focused on Kara, letting her touch, her eyes, her voice pull him back to reality.

Not that it was any kind of reality he wanted to return to. But the alternative was drowning in pain, which was…

Which didn’t even feel much different than reality at that point.

“Hey,” Kara said when she realized his gaze finally focused on her, offering him a small but painful smile. It almost hit him too hard in the chest, and he was sure if he wasn’t blocking out all of his feelings he would shatter inside. But he blocked them out, blocked all of them out, feeling numb to the toes as Kara continued. “Are you okay? Did they do… Did they do anything to you?”

“No.” He answered one second later, without even a bit of hesitation. The lie didn’t even feel sour. He couldn’t even _feel_ it anymore. He couldn’t feel anything. “I’m fine. I…” He couldn’t keep talking as air got hitched in his throat, threatening to suffocate him. This time, it took him relatively shorter to push that out.

He didn’t know how much time passed until Kara talked, obviously believing he was fine—physically at least. “Mon-El?” she croaked, fear tinting her voice. “Mon-El, they said they wanted me.” With those words, with the shakiness in her voice, Mon-El felt a pang of pain hit him in the chest. He desperately tried to keep himself together as she continued. “They said… They said they had to kill me.” She searched his eyes as she gripped his arms tightly, as if needing his support, when actually… He was the one that needed her. He was the one that was about to fall apart.

“Why?” The question left Kara’s mouth so innocently, so fearfully that Mon-El felt something break in his chest. For a couple of seconds nothing came out of his mouth, at least until he opened it, and the words left without his intention.

“Because you should be dead.”

* * *

**_19:49_ **

Mon-El must’ve been shaking so much that, even after the bomb he dropped on Kara, she’d made him sit down and wrapped a blanket around his shoulders before she said a word, and even then she’d only asked if he wanted water or not. He could barely nod. He didn’t even move until she gently took his hands and wrapped his fingers around the glass before she even sat down next to him. He felt her hand over his shoulder.

“Are you feeling better?” she asked softly as watched him take a sip of water. It was almost ice cold as she had just gotten it out of the fridge, yet still, somehow, it’d managed to burn his throat. He closed his eyes when he felt a tear slip down his cheeks, gripping the glass in his hand tightly, needing something— _anything_ —to hold onto.

Fortunately, Kara took the glass from him gingerly before he broke it, and replaced it with her hands. She squeezed them, as if she knew how much he needed support. How much he needed _her._

He couldn’t lose her.

The thought circled in his mind once again as he gripped Kara’s hands, leaning into her touch, letting it wash over him, letting it chase away his worries and put his broken pieces together. No, he wouldn’t lose her. He wouldn’t—he _couldn’t_ —let that happen. Wasn’t it… Wasn’t it Kara that said there was always another way? There must’ve been another way for this too, to fix…to fix whatever was gonna happen in the future. There must’ve been a way in which…in which he could be with Kara, in which he didn’t have to lose her. There _had to_ be. The alternative… The alternative just couldn’t happen. It was unacceptable.

He couldn’t lose her.

“Yeah,” he whispered finally, as an answer to Kara’s question, yet he still couldn’t turn to her. The lie felt almost bitter in his mouth. He took a deep breath to gather his thoughts together before he nodded. “I’m…better.”

Kara didn’t seem like she believed him, yet she didn’t push as she brushed her arm to his. Mon-El leaned into her touch, needing it desperately, needing her desperately, and shut his eyes again.

At least until Kara’s words brought him back to reality, as if he’d just had an ice-cold shower. “Mon-El…” she whispered softly, ducking her chin to look at his eyes, her gaze lacking the softness they just had a couple of seconds ago. Instead they were serious, professional, yet there was also a flicker of fear behind them, which Mon-El surely would’ve missed if he hadn’t known her well. “We need to talk.”

All of his muscles locked the moment those words left Kara’s mouth. His eyes flew open, yet they were fixed on a point on the wall as he couldn’t look at Kara. He couldn’t face her, let alone…let alone talk to her. It was impossible. It felt like there was this…this huge knot in his throat that made it impossible for him to speak.

“You told me I should be dead,” Kara continued when he stayed silent. Mon-El swallowed hard at that as his stomach twisted with pain, and he finally managed to look up. Into her eyes. Those… Those blue orbs that he loved so much, _comets_ that he could get lost in every day, eyes that always managed to bring a smile to his face. Yet now, as he looked at them… All he felt was fear. Because he knew the inevitable was coming. And he knew there would be no escaping it.

“What did you mean by that?” She shifted in her place next to him, her finger absentmindedly drawing a circle in the back of his hand. And with that question, he knew…

He had to tell her everything. _Everything._

He felt the knot in his throat grow into the size of a baseball as he gulped, trying to blink his tears away. He’d been terrified of this. Not just… Not just of the fact that he might be forced to leave her all over again, but of telling her about the previous timeline, because… He knew she wouldn’t take it well. He’d lied to her. And this wasn’t just a lie about his identity either, like when he hid he was the prince, but this was…this was about a whole another _life._ He’d lied her about a _life._ And right now, after he told her everything… He might lose her all over again anyway, even without needing to change the timeline.

The fear of that knotted his throat so tightly that it took him a couple of seconds to find his voice. And even after that, a couple more seconds to actually start talking.

“I haven’t…” he started with a quivering voice, and then cleared his throat when he sounded completely unintelligible. “I haven’t been completely honest with you. About… About myself.” He hated how rusty he sounded, as if he’d cried for hours, yet there was nothing he could do about it. Especially as the frown on Kara’s face, and the way she straightened up and pulled back, caused his stomach to drop. He waited for her to say something for a couple of seconds—pleading inwardly that she’d say something—but he was forced to continue when she stayed silent. “That day in the rooftop…or even in the—the parking lot… It wasn’t the first time I met you. At least… At least a version of you. I’d…” He had to stop to gather up his courage briefly. “I’d met you six years ago. When I first landed on earth.” Kara’s brows shot up with that as a small laugh burst out of her lips, a laugh that made Mon-El’s stomach coil, before she shook her head.

“Mon-El, what are you talking about?” she asked incredulously, her voice colored with disbelief. Mon-El couldn’t help wincing at her question before he looked up, right into her eyes, the eyes that he loved with all he had…and he couldn’t lie anymore. He couldn’t keep lying to her.

So he told her everything.

The words flowed out of his mouth before he could even think about them. He told her that they’d met six years ago when she found his pod. That she was already Supergirl then, fighting crime to keep National City safe. He told her how she was the one that inspired him to be a superhero, she was the one that taught him how to be one, she’d been his mentor and partner. He told her, despite both of them messing up too many times, how they’d found their ways back to each other, always. He told her that they’d been together for five years, they’d been living together, and they’d been engaged. He told her how happy they were together, how they had everything they could’ve asked for, until…until she was killed. Until she was taken from him. By the time he got there tears were already streaming down his face without his intention, and he kept his gaze on his lap, not having the courage to face Kara. He didn’t even bother wiping his tears away, not when Kara’s hands were in his, not when he didn’t want to let them go, no matter…no matter how limp they were. Actually, Kara’s whole body felt frozen and limp as he continued, as he forced himself to continue, to speak over the sobs building up in his throat and tears sliding down his cheeks. He then told Kara about her death. How it was his fault. How she’d only died because she’d met him. How without him she could’ve lived, she could’ve had the life she deserved. And… And he told her how her loss caused him to plunge into depression and drinking, how he stopped being Valor for a month, how irresponsible, selfish, and uncaring he’d been, just because he’d been hurting too much. He told her it took time to recover from that, to build a life from the shattered pieces of his old one, yet even then how much he’d struggled with it, how the pieces never seemed to fit, and how he missed her every single day, so much so that it felt like he was suffocating. And… And he told her everything that happened after Rhea changed the timeline, how he’d gotten her back, and how…how good it had been that he couldn’t go back to that timeline that she was dead. And because of that…because she was dead in the other timeline…Sara and the others wanted her dead.

He was almost out of breath when he was done, staring at his palms, his shoulders slumped and his body leaned forward. He couldn’t turn to Kara as he pressed his lips together, trying to pull himself together, to stop the tears from pouring out of his eyes, but it was impossible. It was impossible with his heart clenching in his chest, with his stomach twisting, with pain gutting him more and more each passing second.

His chest squeezed even more when Kara pulled her hands back from his, shifting away from him. “You’re kidding,” she whispered, the words coming out of her mouth in utter desperation. Mon-El flinched and shut his eyes when he felt like someone just shot him in the chest. His vision was blurry because of tears when he looked up at Kara. “You… You have to be kidding. That’s…”

“Kara…” he whispered, his voice shaking as he tried to reach for her hand. He needed to hold her hand, hold onto it in order to…to keep himself together. To keep himself from falling apart. But all she did was to pull away. His heart lurched in his chest as he just stared at her hands, now clasped together on her lap, trembling all over. He felt himself break apart all over again when he turned to her face. “I’m… I’m not kidding. I’m sorry I—I didn’t tell this to you before. You…deserved to know. Y-You should’ve known. But I…I’m not lying. I promise you, I’m not lying.” _I wish I was, but I’m not._ He opened his palms to show his honesty as he stared at her, pleadingly, begging for her to listen, for her to believe to him, and understand. Begging for her to understand him and…forgive him. As much as he didn’t deserve it, he needed her forgiveness.

Kara almost choked out a laugh again, but it died quickly when she saw the seriousness of Mon-El’s face. She shook her head. “So you’re telling me,” she said slowly, as if she still had trouble processing everything, “that this…life that we’d been living in isn’t real, but it’s…it’s the creation of someone who time traveled and changed something in the past, which ended up changing everything. And that in this original timeline, we’ve known each other for years.” It wasn’t much of a question, yet Mon-El still found himself nodding. After a couple seconds of deafening silence Kara laughed again, shaking her head, before she stood up and stepped away. Her hand was raised in front of her, her palm facing him, as if…as if she was trying to put as much distance between them as possible. Mon-El’s heart stuttered with fear.

“Do you have any idea how—how _crazy_ that sounds?” she continued. “And I’m saying this as someone who’s seen a lot of crazy shit in her life. But… _time travel_?”

“It’s real, Kara,” Mon-El said desperately as he stood up, trying to reach for her again. Her glare and the way she stepped back stopped him, and it took him a couple of seconds to ignore the sickening churning of his stomach. He could continue only then. “I-I haven’t made that up, I promise. I’m not lying to you. I promise, I’m not—“

“ _Excuse me_ if I don’t believe that,” Kara spat out, crossing her arms, before she shook her head. “This is… This is some sort of a game for you, isn’t it? It’s a game to—to get me to feel bad for you, to make me fall for your lies and love you. I’m nothing more than a game to you, right?” The accusation hit Mon-El hard in the chest as his eyes widened. He shook his head fervently, feeling disgusted that…that she could ever think he’d do something like that to her. He loved her. _He loved her._ The last thing he wanted was to hurt her, manipulate her, play with her, and hearing her say all that… It hurt him more than he could’ve imagined.

“Kara, no,” he said, shaking his head. “No, I’d…I’d never do that. I’d never do _anything_ to hurt you. I’m telling the truth. I know… I know how insane it s-sounds, and I know it’s hard to believe but I’d…I’d never lie to you. I’d—“

“Oh, cut the crap,” Kara interjected as she stepped forward, her burning gaze fixed on him. Mon-El couldn’t help wincing with the pure anger twinkling in her eyes. “You planned all of this from the beginning, didn’t you?” she asked, searching his face. Mon-El shook his head desperately, opening his mouth to talk, yet she didn’t let him. “All those flowers, dates, training me… Even those three aliens. They seemed like they knew you. They were in it with you, weren’t they?”

“Kara—“ Mon-El tried to say, but she wasn’t listening to him.

“You did all those only to have me for yourself. Only to—to seem like a hero when you swooped in and saved my ass from those aliens. A true _prince charming_.” She’d said the last words with such bite, such mocking, that Mon-El couldn’t even say anything as he looked at her. Tears were blurring his vision all over again, and he could feel his nails biting into his palms, yet even those didn’t help in keeping himself together. His world was falling apart around him, piece by piece, with Kara’s every word, and he couldn’t stop it. He couldn’t do anything to stop it except shaking his head, denying what was going on, as if it would make all of this… _not real_.

He knew from experience that it never worked.

“Kara, no—“

“I don’t want to hear it, Mon-El,” Kara said as she turned and walked away from him, a laugh escaping her lips. “You’d lie all over again anyway, right? How can I believe anything you say after what you’ve just told me?” Her gaze was icy, in a way that made Mon-El’s blood go cold, when she looked at him. “Another version of me, from another timeline, in love with you. That was a real good play.”

“It wasn’t a—“ he tried one last time, feeling strength leave his shoulders. Kara’s arms were crossed over her chest when she turned around and cut his words.

“Don’t bother, Mon-El. I don’t believe it.” She laughed again, but there was nothing humorous or joyful about it, it was only…angry, and…cold. Distant. So much so that it broke another piece off of Mon-El. “In fact, I should’ve never believed you. Alex… She was right about you. She was right when she said that you’d eventually hurt me. Granted, I was the foolish one to believe she was wrong.” She shook her head with a sneer. “After all, I don’t know what else I should’ve expected from a _Daxamite.”_

With those last words Mon-El felt air leaving his lungs as she watched Kara shook her head and turn around. “Don’t be here when I come back,” she said before she strutted to the window and jumped up, disappearing into the night sky before Mon-El could even lift a finger. All he could do was watch her leave, get out of his life all over again, and it hurt. It hurt much more than he’d imagined it would, and…and he was already pretty sure it would hurt like _hell._ Yet the pain… The pain topped anything he could’ve thought of, so much so that he barely got out of Kara’s house. And by the time he landed in his house, he was already sobbing, his knees too weak to carry him as he just collapsed onto the floor.

* * *

**_23:45_ **

Mon-El couldn’t stop crying. He didn’t know how long it had been since he flew into his house, he didn’t know how long it had been since…since Kara left him, but… He couldn’t stop crying. And he’d tried. He’d tried so hard to stop his sobs, he covered his mouth with his hands, he curled up in a ball and closed his eyes, he even tried to go to bed and sleep, but none of it was working. It’d probably been hours since he started crying, yet tears were still streaming down his face as he sat in front of his couch on the floor, with his back to it, his knees pulled up close to his chest. There was an incredible amount of used crumpled tissues around him, and he was clutching a pillow over his chest as if it could fill the hole that was left in his heart in Kara’s wake, yet he _still couldn’t stop crying._ It just… It just hurt _too much._

He’d lost Kara. Again. He’d lost her, and he didn’t know… He didn’t know how to survive it. Of course a part of him knew she wasn’t dead, and that…maybe…if he talked to her…she’d forgive him, but…but that didn’t change the fact that she kicked him out of her house. That didn’t change the fact that she didn’t believe his story. That didn’t change the fact that she’d broken up with him, and she…she probably wouldn’t even want to see him. She wouldn’t want to see him, and he didn’t know…

He didn’t know how to deal with that.

Closing his eyes he rested his forehead against his knee as another silent sob escaped his lips. The sobs were mostly silent now as his throat couldn’t take the strain anymore. It already burned too badly, to the point that he was worried if he continued sobbing he’d do some permanent damage to his vocal cords, yet even that didn’t help him stop. _Nothing_ helped him stop.

_And I’ve actually thought I could be happy for once._ The thought seeped into his mind slowly, until he literally had to bite down on his cheek to distract himself from it. But wasn’t it true. He’d been happy. For the last couple of weeks, ever since he started hanging out with Kara in this timeline…he’d been happy. So, _so_ happy, just like… Just like how he’d been before the original-timeline Kara died. He never thought he could have that happiness again, since Kara wouldn’t be around, but…but he’d had her back, and he was _happy._ Until the rug was pulled from under his feet all over again. That seemed to be the pattern with him. Whenever he found happiness, whenever he started thinking, “This is it. This time it’ll last,” it all crashed and burned into flames, leaving him a bit more broken than the last time. Kara’s death had been the hardest blows of them all, and now, losing her all over again…

He couldn’t even find the strength to keep his head up, let alone get off the floor.

And…it wasn’t only that either. There was also this matter with the—the Time Masters. Sara and Mick and Jax. They were the three aliens—well, not aliens exactly, but they were the ones kidnapping people around National City. Because those people were time aberrations, and they should be gotten rid of. To set the timeline straight, to its original status as best as they could.

Even thinking about it made Mon-El sick, and not just because he didn’t even want to think about the amount of people they must’ve kidnapped. Kara was a time aberration too. Sara was… As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Sara was right when he said Kara should’ve been… _dead._ She’d died in the original timeline, which meant, she should be _gotten rid of_ in this timeline. Destroyed. Gone. Poof.

He couldn’t let that happen.

He knew he’d lost Kara now too, he knew there was a good chance she’d never believe or forgive him, but… At least she would be alive. At least she would be breathing, living her life… _happy_. That… That, Mon-El could take. He might’ve still been broken, but in that case he’d be able to live with himself, he’d be able to survive, it wouldn’t… It wouldn’t kill him. Not like the Time Masters taking Kara would. He had to stop them from doing it. One way or another, he had to stop them before they could take Kara, and—

A knock coming from the door distracted him from his thoughts. He would’ve thought he was hallucinating as he forced himself to lift his head up to look at it, but it was way too forceful to be a hallucination. Besides, it’d sent shots of pain through his brain, and he doubted something imaginary could do that.

He didn’t even think about standing up before he rested his forehead against his knee again, hoping whoever was outside wouldn’t be too insistent. It was probably J’onn anyway. If he’d heard what happened with him and Kara, it was possible that he wanted to check up on him. But he didn’t want to talk to anyone right now, especially not J’onn, and he hoped… He hoped if he didn’t answer the door the Martian would just give up and go away. He just needed to keep quiet so as not to alert him of his presence.

He winced when the person knocked on the door again, yet he still didn’t lift his head as he pulled his knees closer, trying to curl into a ball as small as possible. Yet his body froze almost immediately when he heard the voice coming from outside.

“Mon-El?” His head snapped up, looking at the door, as his heart doubled its beat. _Kara._ It was _Kara._ But… But no, she couldn’t be here. Right? She’d made it pretty clear that she did not want to see Mon-El. That she…didn’t want anything to do with him. The memory, the wound… It was still too fresh. She couldn’t be here.

“Mon-El, I know you’re in there,” Kara continued from outside the door as he stared at it. “I can hear you…” Her voice trailed off as Mon-El pushed himself off the ground slowly, getting support from his couch to stand up, and waited for her to continue. He could feel his heartbeats ringing in his ears as he stared at the door. He needed to make sure… He needed to be sure that…that he wasn’t dreaming, that Kara was real and there. He just… He needed to be sure.

“I need you to open the door,” she said finally. Mon-El felt his muscles freeze at that as he stared at the door. It was her voice. It was…really…her voice. She was there. _She came._

He could hear Kara talking as he rushed to the door, his hand wrapping around the handle immediately. “I need to talk to you,” she was saying as he pulled the door open, so harshly that it almost came off its hinges.

And she was there. Kara was there. Right in front of him, looking up at him with—with those blue eyes of hers, filled with a painful and apologetic look. Mon-El could feel his heart slamming against his ribs. She came. She came. He’d thought… He’d thought he’d never see her again, not after today, but…she’d _come_.

“Kara,” he tried to say, but his voice came out only as a quiet rasp. All that sobbing had taken a toll on him. Yet still, he could feel his heart fluttering in his chest as he opened his mouth, ready to apologize for everything all over again…

When he saw Kara’s face crumple with guilt. “Oh my God,” she whispered before he even got the chance to say anything and lunged on him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pulling him close. He was caught so off guard, so not expecting the hug, that at first he couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t even move as Kara rested her chin on his shoulder and tightened her grip.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice almost tear-strained. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I’m so sorry.” She had to stop, presumably because of his tears, and Mon-El couldn’t help hugging her back when he felt her begin to shake. He had to blink several times to get rid of his tears, yet it wasn’t working. But they weren’t sad tears now. On the contrary, they were _happy_ ones. Kara was here. She was here, and she was in his arms, and she—

“I’m sorry,” she whispered again, taking Mon-El out of his thoughts, shuddering in his arms. He rubbed her back, not even knowing what she was apologizing for. She hadn’t done anything wrong. It was… It’d been him that messed up, him that kept all those secrets from her. She didn’t need to be sorry for his mistakes.

“Hey,” he said softly, stroking the ends of her hair. “Hey, it’s okay. You don’t need to—“ He couldn’t get far before Kara pulled back and interrupted him, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

“No.” She shook her head, grasping his shoulders. “I need to. Mon-El, I…I said all those terrible things about you. How… How you were only playing me, you didn’t care about me…” She winced with her own words when she saw Mon-El grimace. “I was wrong,” she continued, moving one of her hands to the nape of his neck. Mon-El’s heart skipped a beat. “I was so wrong about that, Mon-El. You’d been… You’d been telling me the truth, and I…” Her voice trailed off again as she shut her eyes, trying to pull herself together. Mon-El couldn’t do anything as he looked at her. He didn’t even realize that the front door was still open and they were standing there. He just… He was focused on Kara. Just her, and her words, and…

_Did she just say he was telling the truth?_

The thought made his heart stutter as Kara lifted her eyes, opening her mouth again. “I shot you down, I accused you of manipulating me and…and using me, when all you did was… All you did was try and make me happy. Gosh, Mon-El, I… I’m so sorry.”

Mon-El could only find his voice a couple of seconds later. “You…believe me?” he croaked out, his voice still tinted with disbelief. Kara looked at him with a pained expression as she cupped his cheeks, staring right into his eyes, as if she was trying to make sure he knew she was telling the truth.

“Yes,” she whispered with a nod and flashed him a smile. “Yes, of course, I believe you.” Mon-El searched her eyes, her face, looking for signs that she was lying…but only honesty was twinkling in her eyes. Tears welled up in his eyes all over again as he pulled her close, burying his face to the crook of her neck. _She is here,_ his mind told him, repeating it over and over again. _She’s here. She’s here. She’s here. She believes you._

He didn’t know for how long he and Kara stayed there like that, with Kara rubbing his back and Mon-El balling her shirt in his fists, but once he found the courage to let her go she led him to the couch, made him sit by her side, but this time…this time she didn’t let him go. One of her arms were wrapped around his shoulders, and her other hand held one of his, their fingers laced together. She didn’t let him get even one inch away.

“How?” The question left Mon-El’s lips only minutes later, after he savored her being next to him, after he was sure she wouldn’t leave. He could still feel the tears in his eyes as he looked up.

Kara seemed to understand what he was trying to ask, because a grimace pulled her lips as she avoided his gaze. “J’onn,” she whispered as she stared at their hands. “He… He told me that you were telling the truth. He explained… _everything_.” She didn’t say anything else, but those words were enough for Mon-El to guess what J’onn must’ve said. His eyes were burning as he tried to turn away and pull back, guilt and embarrassment churning in his stomach, yet Kara didn’t let him get far. She cupped his cheek and guided his head to look at her. “Mon-El, there’s nothing to be ashamed of,” she mumbled as if she understood what he was thinking. “You were… You were hurting. You’d lost someone that you loved with everything, and _of course_ that’s going to hurt. I was the one… Gosh, Mon-El, I told you that it was a game.” Kara flinched at that as she grasped his hand, shaking her head. “I…I mocked your pain. I’m so sorry.” She sounded so regretful, so ashamed that Mon-El couldn’t help reaching forward and stroking her hair softly.

“Hey, it wasn’t your fa—“

“Don’t say that,” she whispered, so quietly that Mon-El stopped. He watched her as she shut her eyes and take a deep breath. “You always blame yourself for everything, even if it isn’t your fault. Don’t do that.” She looked up, her eyes shining with the curtain of tears that fell over them. And somehow, the look in her eyes said that it wasn’t just his confession she was talking about. Yet she continued before he could ponder on that. “You were being honest with me. You told me _everything;_ as hard as it had been you still told me everything. You tried to tell me you weren’t lying. I was the one that didn’t listen. It was _my_ fault, Mon-El, not yours. There’s…there’s no excuse.” She stared at the floor, a tear escaping her eyes and sliding down her cheek. Mon-El felt something crack in his chest at that, seeing her in pain, and he couldn’t help reaching forward to wipe her tear away.

“Kara, I understand why you might not have been thinking clearly. I’d… I’d just told you that a version of you died in the original timeline, a version of you that I’d…been with for years. And that…that people were after you because of that. I…I understand why you got angry at me.” He inclined his head to look at her eyes, which were fixed on a spot on the floor. She shook her head.

“That’s… That was no excuse to hurt you. You’ve… Mon-El, you’ve always been so amazing with me. So understanding, caring, doting… You’ve done everything in your power to give me what I wanted, to make me happy, and you’ve never pushed me to do anything. You’ve always been so _honest_ with me, and I… I should’ve known that you were telling the truth. I should’ve seen it in your eyes.” She shut her eyes and clenched her fists before she continued. “I was just… I was caught off guard. When you told me that you’d been together with a version of me, I…I got afraid that you were with me now just because I looked like her. I thought—“

“Hey,” Mon-El stopped her the moment those words left her lips and put his hand on hers. “Kara, I’m with you because of _you_ , no one else. The timeline might be different, but you’re still you. Your life, your experiences, your personality… It’s all the same. I’m with you because I like all of those, and I want to be with you. Don’t… Don’t doubt that.” Kara lifted her head and looked at him, a small smile pulling her lips. She nodded as she swallowed hard, but then a serious look filled her face. She knitted her brows as she ducked her chin again.

“And I… I was also scared. I know it’s no excuse, but when you told me that…that the Time Masters were after me and wanted to kill me… I got scared. Believing you meant that I’d need to accept that too, and I…wasn’t ready.” She pressed her lips together, glancing at Mon-El desperately. “I don’t want to die, Mon-El. I finally feel like I have everything I’ve ever wanted, and I… I’m not ready to lose that. I don’t want to lose that.” Desperation tinted her voice as she looked at Mon-El. He grabbed her hands at the helplessness and fear in her voice and stood up to kneel down in front of her. He squeezed her hands reassuringly.

“You don’t need to worry about that,” he said, feeling glad that his voice wasn’t shaking with doubt. “I won’t let them hurt you, okay? I’ll protect you.” He fixed his gaze to her eyes, making sure she was focused on him. “I’m not gonna lose you again, Kara. I promise. I won’t let you die again.” Kara looked at him for a couple of seconds, searching his face, but then she nodded with trust shining in her eyes.

“Okay,” she whispered . “We’ll protect me.” He flashed her a smile before he reached up and pressed his lips on hers, sealing his promise with a kiss.


	23. Fear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all :)
> 
> ......Soooooooo we're approaching the end of the fic. There's only three chapters left to post, and I mean...wow. I really didn't expect it to come to this point, and now I'm both excited and sad lol. These last chapters were my fave chapters even before I wrote them (lol), so it's exciting to be able to share them with you and get your thoughts, but it's also mean that it's ending. And I don't know if I'm ready for that.
> 
> But anyway, I don't wanna get emotional over here as the chapter is already emotional enough, so.... I hope you like it!

**18 th of April, 2022**

**_10:54_ **

Mon-El couldn’t let Kara’s hand go as they stood around the control center in the DEO, staring at the screen. Almost everyone was there: Alex, J’onn, Chris, Dana, and two other DEO agents that Mon-El didn’t recognize, who seemed to be from the IT department. And all of them were looking at the faces displayed on the screen.

Faces of Sara Lance, Mick Rory, and Jefferson Jackson. At least their old selves from before they’d become Time Masters. That was what Mon-El assumed, because the versions that came to Kara’s house seemed significantly older than the photos. Plus Sara’s hair was still blond here.

“So,” Alex started, her arms crossed over her chest as she stood next to Kara, “who are they again?” Her eyes flickered to Mon-El. It took him a couple of seconds to find his voice, and even then it was shaking.

“Time Masters,” he said, earning confused looks from everyone except J’onn and Kara. The latter just leaned into him, squeezing his hand as if she was trying to offer her support. He couldn’t even flash her a smile before he continued. “They’re… They’re a group of people that travel in time, fixing time aberrations. Changes to the timeline,” he tried to explain, yet still, no one seemed to understand what he was talking about. He sighed as he approached the white board in the middle of the room, tugging Kara with him, not wanting to be away from her even for a couple of seconds. He grabbed a marker to draw a line on the board.

“Imagine this line as our timeline. Say, for example, this is French Revolution, World War 1, World War 2, and today.” He marked places on the line corresponding to those dates. “And say something happened that prevented the French Revolution from occurring.” He put a cross on the mark for the French revolution, and drew a line protruding from there, separate from the original timeline. “This change creates a whole new version of the timeline, different than what was supposed to happen.” He turned to the group at that, hoping it all didn’t sound like gibberish to them. “Time Masters are people that go back in time and prevent those changes from happening, so that the timeline could stay intact and there aren’t big consequences.”

Dana was the first that broke the silence after his explanation. She straightened up, shaking her head. “So what, they’re some sort of time…police or something?” Mon-El thought for a second before nodding.

“I…guess you could say that.” He took a deep breath as he squeezed Kara’s hand to remind himself that she was here before he gulped. “And they’re here right now to fix those aberrations.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Alex interjected before he could continue and straightened up. “Let me get this straight. So you’re telling me that these…people have been kidnapping and probably killing people because they were _time aberrations?_ To keep the timeline _intact?”_ All Mon-El could do was nod at that, wincing at the realization how ridiculous it must’ve sounded. No wonder Kara didn’t believe him when he told her. “Mon-El, you realize how _crazy_ that sounds, right?” He sighed, ready to answer, but it was Kara that stepped forward this time.

“I know, Alex,” she said softly, her face serious. “Trust me, I know. I didn’t believe him at first either. But he’s telling the truth.” She turned to J’onn. “J’onn can attest to that.” With that all eyes turned to the Martian, who’d been standing the whole time with his arms crossed over his chest, a grave expression on his face. He nodded as a confirmation.

“He’s not lying about any of this. I’ve…” His voice almost trailed off when his eyes met with Mon-El’s, which caused the Daxamite’s stomach to churn with pain. “I’ve seen it,” he finished his words, and somehow…somehow that was enough. Still, Chris shook his head with confusion at that.

“That still doesn’t explain why they’re _here,_ ” he said, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table. “Why those people are time aberrations, or why…why they’re after Kara. I don’t remember any change to the timeline.” Mon-El must’ve flinched at that as a pang of pain hit him in the chest unexpectedly, because he felt Kara’s hand on his shoulder, squeezing it, offering him support. He glanced at her, only to see her smile and nod him, urging for him to continue and telling him that she would be there for him through it all. Taking a shaky breath, he forced the words out of his mouth.

“You can’t remember the change, because you’ve been living in it,” he said hoarsely, clearing his throat before he continued. His eyes flickered to Alex. “Six years ago, on 26th of October, you were planning on boarding a plane, but you had a car accident, and you were late. And then that plane crashed. Do you remember that?” Alex frowned at first, obviously combing through her mind to find the memory, before she slowly nodded. “That wasn’t supposed to happen.” He pressed his lips together before he continued. “You were supposed to be on that plane when it crashed… And Kara was supposed to stop the crash to save you. But someone went back in time to cause your car accident, prevent you from going on that plane, and…and stopped Kara from becoming Supergirl.” Alex tensed at that as she straightened up, laughing nervously.

“That’s ridiculous,” she said, crossing her arms. “Kara only became Supergirl because she met you.” Kara shot Alex a glare at that as she put her hand on her hips.

“I became Supergirl because I wanted to, Alex,” she said, her voice almost harsh. “And you know that if you were on that plane while it was crashing six years ago, there’s no way I’d let that happen and let you die. I would be up there saving you. It isn’t such a stretch to believe that I would become Supergirl then.” She shook her head when Alex opened her mouth to speak. “But anyway, that isn’t the important part. The important part is that… In that version of the timeline…” She shuddered next to Mon-El, tightening her grip on his hand. “I died.” A commotion rose around the table at that as everyone straightened up. Mon-El could hear all of them asking what happened, why and how it happened, until J’onn cleared his throat loudly to shut everyone up. The gazes turned to him.

“It doesn’t matter how it happened,” he said, his eyes fixed on Mon-El, “or why. All it matters that it _had_ happened.” The Daxamite almost felt too grateful at that, at J’onn taking over to stop the questions, because he…he really didn’t think he could tell anyone how Kara died… _again._ It almost broke him to tell Kara and see her walk away, if he told Alex and all the others too and had to face their anger or accusation… He couldn’t do it. “And that means Kara’s life in danger now.” Chris ducked his chin at that, running his fingers through his hair.

“No shit, Sherlock,” he muttered under his breath. Alex and Mon-El both shut him a glare at that, which made him stop instantly. He spread his arms. “What? I was just pointing out a fact.”

“And we thank you for that,” J’onn said dryly before he continued. No one in the room really felt like laughing at the joke. “But this is serious. Let’s not forget that we’re dealing with people that know the past, present, and future in and out, people with technology at a level of advancement we can’t even dream of. They’ve proved themselves to be strong enough to take on both Kara and Mon-El, together. We need to be prepared for another attack, and we need to find a way to take them down.” He put his hands on the table, his brows knitted, as if considering something. He looked up at Alex. “Alex, I need you to gather up two team of agents to monitor Kara 24/7. Choose your best ones, and arm them with our best weapons.” Kara stepped forward at that.

“Sir, I can protect myself—“ she started, but J’onn’s gaze stopped her.

“We know you can, Miss Danvers, but we can’t take any risks. Not with this.” He briefly looked at Mon-El then, who offered him a grateful nod, before he continued, this time looking at Chris. “I want a team of IT specialists working to locate Miss Lance and her team, wherever they are. You get your best agents on it too, and Mon-El will be there to assist you. He knows better about them than anyone in this room, and he can help you find them.” With that Mon-El stopped, shaking his head. No, no, that didn’t make any sense. He couldn’t be here while Kara was… She was out there, with a target on her back. She’d insisted to go to CatCo as soon as this briefing was over, telling Mon-El that she couldn’t very well stop living her life. There was an important meeting there that she had to attend. Mon-El tried to convince her the whole morning that it was way too dangerous, but she’d insisted she’d be okay; Time Masters wouldn’t dare attack her in such a public place. He’d had to cave in finally when he realized she wouldn’t give up, but if she was going to be out there… Then he _had to_ be with her. He had to make sure that she’d be okay, that she was safe. He had to protect her. He couldn’t stay in the DEO.

“Excuse me, J’onn…sir,” he stammered as he tried to calm his heart, making J’onn turn to him. “If Kara will be in the CatCo, wouldn’t it be best if I’m there with her? If the Time Masters attack again…” He shuddered with the thought as he looked at J’onn, grasping Kara’s hand tightly. Yet J’onn just lifted his chin.

“If they attack, you can be there in no time, Mon-El. You are needed more here so that we can find them before they hurt anyone else. They might not be the same people that have been your friends, but that doesn’t change that you know them, and we need that knowledge. Understood?” His gaze was understanding and soft as he looked at the Daxamite, almost as if he was sorry about his decision, even though his voice had been harsh. Mon-El opened his mouth to object until he felt Kara’s arm on his shoulder. He turned to her.

“I’ll be fine, Mon-El,” she whispered, a small smile pulling her lips. Mon-El felt his heart squeeze in his chest when he realized it didn’t reach her eyes. “They need you more than I do.” She squeezed Mon-El’s arm with a nod, as if telling him to go help his friends. His shoulders had slumped when he finally shook his head, a bad feeling churning in his stomach.

“Okay, fine,” he said, turning to J’onn. “I’ll help Chris. But… But if anything happens…” Even the thought was enough to render him breathless as J’onn straightened up.

“We’ll let you know, and you’ll go help Kara. I promise.” He looked around the room, checking everyone’s faces to see if they were on board. “If everything is settled,” he then said, crossing his arms over his chest, “get to work.” With that people scattered around, each ready to execute J’onn’s orders, as the Martian turned to Mon-El. “Mon-El, see me in my office before you go down to the IT department.” The Daxamite barely had time to nod before J’onn left.

Mon-El turned to Kara when he felt her hand on his cheek, guiding his head so that he would be looking at her. “Hey,” she whispered, her gaze concerned. Her fingertips brushed the ends of his hair as he leaned his head over her palm. “Are you okay?”

He didn’t know how to answer her question at first. He wasn’t fine, he knew that. He wasn’t even _close_ to being fine. The fear had been churning in his stomach ever since the Time Masters attacked Kara; the fear of losing her all over again. He couldn’t ignore it, let it go, or forget it. Not until he was sure Kara was safe.

“I’ll be okay,” he opted to say finally, “once I know you’re safe.” His arms circled her waist and pulled her close, and he rested his forehead against hers. He felt her eyes flutter shit. “I’ll be okay once I know we can be together without needing to worry about anything or anyone.” Kara chuckled quietly at that, her chest shaking in Mon-El’s arms, before he leaned down and pressed a small kiss on her lips. He savored the moment, the feeling of her lips on his, the fact that she was with him, and they were together. He didn’t want to pull back or let her go, but at the end their lips parted. He found Kara looking up at him with a genuine smile when he opened his eyes.

“I’ll be okay too,” she answered his question before he even got the chance to ask it, “once this threat is over. Once I know we can have a future together.” She ran her fingers through his hair gently, looking at his eyes. “Okay?” Mon-El searched her face at that, looking for a sign of distress, a sign that told him she wasn’t being honest, but there was only honesty and… _hope_ there. He found himself nodding.

“Okay,” he finally said and stole another peck from her lips, making her giggle, before she got out of his arms and walked to the exit. He watched her as she left, turning around to flash him one last smile and wave at him.

Only when she disappeared behind the elevator doors that he turned around, making his way to J’onn’s office.

* * *

**_11:38_ **

Mon-El softly knocked on the door of J’onn’s office before he pushed it open, hesitantly looking inside. “Can I…?” he asked when he saw the Martian lift his head from the files on the table. He gestured him to enter.

“You actually knocked,” he pointed out as Mon-El sat on one of the chairs across J’onn’s table. He clasped his hands together as he leaned forward. “Should I be worried?” Mon-El couldn’t even crack up a smile at his joke, and only shot the Martian a brief glare.

“What did you want to speak to me about?” he asked as he ignored J’onn’s comment, opting to rest his arm on the table. He felt anxious even just sitting there; he wanted to go to the IT department, find Sara and the others, and end this whole business once and for all.

J’onn searched Mon-El’s face briefly before he answered, a worried crease on his forehead. “I wanted to ask you how you were,” he said, leaning forward. “How are you?”

The Daxamite frowned before the answer left his lips. “I’ll… I’ll be fine. I’ll be okay once this thing is over,” he said, giving J’onn the answer he gave Kara. “Once I know Kara is safe.” He lifted his head, only to see the Martian shaking his head.

“That’s not what I asked, Mon-El,” he said softly, his eyes briefly flickering to Mon-El’s hand on the table. The Daxamite hadn’t even realized he was clenching it until J’onn looked at it, and he forced himself to loosen it. He opened his mouth, again, to say that he would be fine and J’onn had nothing to worry about, but J’onn interrupted him. “You can be honest with me. I’m not Kara.” The words hit the Daxamite harder than he thought. At first he wanted to object. To tell J’onn that he would never lie to Kara, that he _loved_ her, but then he stopped. Because that wasn’t what J’onn had implied when he said he wasn’t Kara. He was offering Mon-El a chance to be _brutally_ honest, to say the things that worried him that he couldn’t tell Kara, simply to not put another weight on her shoulders or worry her. He offered to listen to the things even Mon-El was afraid to think. So instead of objecting he turned his eyes to the table, trying to gather together his thoughts.

“I’m… I’m scared,” he confessed without looking up. His voice was hoarse as he continued, feeling himself being weighed down. “I’m _terrified_ , J’onn. The Time Masters… They were really strong. You saw it too. I’m scared that…that when it comes down to it, when they come for Kara again…I won’t be able to save her. I’ll… I’ll lose her again.” He shut his eyes at that thought, feeling his stomach coil, and shook his head. “I _can’t_ lose her again. I won’t… I won’t survive it this time.” J’onn didn’t say anything for a while as he sat there, his chin ducked, just staring at his hands and the nail marks on his palms. It was no surprise that he’d wounded himself again after what happened.

“We won’t let that happen,” J’onn promised, without a hint of hesitation in his voice. “I know what she means to you, Mon-El, and I’ll do everything in my power to keep you from losing her.” Mon-El looked up at him at that, wanting to believe what he was saying so badly. He wanted it to be the truth, he wanted to know that he wouldn’t lose Kara, he wanted so badly to believe that they’d have a future together…

So he did. He chose to believe J’onn, because even _considering_ the alternative was too painful. He nodded with a gulp.

“Okay,” he whispered, clenching and unclenching his fists briefly. “Yeah, okay, I… Thank you for that, J’onn.” He hoped the Martian could hear how genuinely grateful he was in his voice. He stood up afterwards as he cleared his throat, glancing briefly at J’onn. “I should probably get going.” J’onn nodded at that as he turned to his files, but before Mon-El could leave he stopped him.

“Mon-El?” The Daxamite turned around at that, only to see J’onn’s small smile. “It’ll all be okay,” he promised with a nod before returning to his work. Mon-El stared at him for a couple of seconds, wishing with all of his heart that it was true, before he pushed the door open and left.

* * *

**_19:54_ **

Eight hours. It had been almost eight hours since Chris and Mon-El started looking for Sara and her team, eight hours of combing through every single bit of information that they could find about them, yet it yielded nothing. They’d looked through their families, friends, early lives, what they were doing before they became Time Masters, what they did _after_ becoming one, but there was nothing to indicate where they could be found. No information about current whereabouts, relationships, friendships, _anything._ It was like they didn’t even _exist,_ which was scary on its own. They knew how to hide, and they knew it well. Mon-El also told Chris about the Waverider, the spaceship Sara was using, yet there was no sign of that in National City either.

Which, of course, didn’t help with Mon-El’s mood at all as he walked to the exit, his hands tucked into his pockets. He’d learnt from Alex that Kara was fine and had gone home to rest, so that was where he was going. He might’ve needed to stay away from her the whole day, but he wasn’t about to spend the night without her.

“…J’onn, I need to talk to you. Now.” Mon-El’s thoughts were interrupted right before he passed in front of J’onn’s office with a familiar voice. He frowned as his steps halted. _That’s impossible,_ he couldn’t help thinking. _She was supposed to be at home._

“Kara?” he heard J’onn say as an answer. Even with that one word Mon-El could say that his tone was worried. His insides went cold. He knew he should be moving, maybe even knock on J’onn’s door and get into his office, but he was frozen there with his heart slamming against his ribs. All he could do was listen to the voices coming from J’onn’s office. “Hey, come here, sit down. What happened? Is everything okay?” There was a couple of seconds of silence as there was a shuffle of feet, before Kara spoke.

“No?” she said, her voice almost hoarse. “There’s something…something I need to tell you. Something about the Time Masters.” Mon-El felt her heart almost plummet in his chest at that as his eyes snapped up. He was ready to rush forward, to slam open the doors of J’onn’s office and see Kara, make sure she was okay and she was there, but her next words rooted him in his place. “But you can’t tell anyone about it. Especially not Mon-El. You need to promise you won’t tell anyone.” Mon-El’s heart stopped briefly before it started thundering again, the beats ringing in his ears, so much so that he barely heard J’onn’s next words.

“Yes, of course. You can tell me everything.” There was a couple of seconds of silence after that, presumably as Kara tried to gather her thoughts together. Mon-El knew, deep down, he shouldn’t be listening, not if she didn’t want him to listen. He trusted her, he knew that if it was something important she would tell him. And yet he couldn’t leave. He couldn’t get his feet to move. Because… Because Kara sounded scared, _absolutely_ scared, and from just that he knew something was wrong. And maybe he wasn’t the only one that was keeping secrets from his loved ones to spare them from the burden.

“The Time Masters came for me today,” Kara started, slowly, deliberately. Mon-El’s eyes widened at that as his heard stuttered, and he almost lurched forward until Kara continued. “Don’t worry, I’m okay. They weren’t… They weren’t there to kidnap me or…kill me. They came to…to ask for my help.” Mon-El knitted his brows at that, trying to think how could the Time Masters need Kara. J’onn voiced the question that was circling in his mind.

“What would they need your help with?” It took Kara some time to answer, each passing second feeling even more excruciating to Mon-El. He was holding his breath by the time Kara started explaining.

“To stop the world from getting ruined.” She said the words too quietly that Mon-El almost didn’t hear it. A chill went down his spine at that, at the choice of words and the fear in Kara’s voice. He couldn’t do anything but listen as she continued. “Mon-El had told me that…that he decided not to change the timeline, to let it stick, because there was no big consequence. But J’onn, there _is_.” She inhaled shakily at that. “About 160 years from today, a US president will be killed in Europe, and as a result of that the US will send something far worse than an atomic bomb there, taking out almost half of the continent. It will be an all out war. The weapons in the first world countries will be so advanced that they will kill billions of people. Almost _half_ of the world’s population. Everywhere we know will be in ruins. All because… All because Rhea changed the timeline.” Mon-El felt his blood turn to ice when she finished her words. _No,_ he thought. _No, that’s impossible._ That couldn’t… That couldn’t happen. It must’ve been a lie, something…something that Sara told Kara to get her to do her bidding. It couldn’t be true. He’d talked to J’onn. There was no consequence. They’d seen that there was no consequence. What Kara said… It couldn’t be real.

…But how would J’onn know about something that would happen more than a century later?

“How do you know they were telling the truth?” J’onn asked. His voice sounded so calm, so professional, that Mon-El couldn’t even believe it, because he felt like his heart was about to beat out of his chest. He had to clench his fists, digging his nails into his palms to keep his knees from buckling.

“I asked the same question to them, you know,” Kara tried to joke, but it came out dry and tear-strained. “But then… Then they showed me. All of it. They had… They had this computer, I think they were calling it Gideon, that knew everything. I don’t think a computer could lie about all of this, and even if it could, wouldn’t have the footage of the war. It is real.” Her voice shook at the right word. “As much as I don’t want it to be, it’s real.” Mon-El heard her stand up at that, her footsteps approaching the door. He tensed, even though he knew there was no way she could see him, not when he couldn’t see the inside of the office.

“That’s why they’d been kidnapping and killing people,” Kara continued. “And… And it wasn’t just those three people that they took. There are at least thirty of them, J’onn. I even knew two of them; the twins that I wrote an article about a couple of weeks ago. They told me that…that all of those people were dead in the original timeline, so they thought getting rid of them again might change the course of time. That maybe one of them did something that led to the war, and getting rid of him or her would prevent it… But… But it didn’t. The war is still gonna happen.” By the end it was obvious she’d started crying from her voice. Even though a part of him wanted to hug and comfort her at that, a huge part of him was frozen, almost numb, just…just listening to her words.

“Kara…” J’onn started, but she didn’t let him talk.

“When I learned that, I asked them why they didn’t just go back to the day Rhea changed the timeline and stop her, because that would be the easiest and surest way to do it, but they said they tried and failed. Apparently… Rhea was prepared for them. She knew how to defeat them. And now… They couldn’t return back to that time, because that would require them to see their past selves, and that apparently messes up time in an even worse way than Rhea did. And they also said that _I_ couldn’t do it, since I’m dead in the original timeline. They’re afraid that me restoring the timeline might not stick because of that.” She stopped at that, presumably to gather herself together.

Mon-El knew he shouldn’t feel good that the Time Masters failed to stop Rhea, or that Kara couldn’t do it either, yet he couldn’t even think about that as relief washed over him. Because… Because if they’d or she’d succeeded, then that would mean… That would mean Kara would be gone all over again, and he couldn’t handle that. That couldn’t happen. That was… It wasn’t even an option.

Yet he realized he’d relaxed way too quickly when Kara continued.

“That was why they needed my help. They can’t go back in time to stop Rhea, they can’t get me to do it, and they can’t find a way to prevent the war in this timeline, so…so they want me to ask Mon-El to do it.”

_No._

“They want him to go back in time and stop Rhea.”

_No._

“They need him to fix time.”

 _No._ Mon-El repeated that word in his mind over and over again as Kara continued. No. _No._ That couldn’t happen. He couldn’t do it. Going back in time and…and stopping Rhea…? It would mean Kara’s death. It would mean… It would mean time would go back to its original version, where Kara…where she’d died. He couldn’t do it. He _wouldn’t_ do it. He wouldn’t let Kara die again, no matter what happened—what _would_ happen. He wasn’t losing her again. No. _No…_

“Which means…” J’onn started before Mon-El could gather up his thoughts, before he could calm down his thundering heart and destructive thoughts.

“I’ll die. Again.” Kara’s words felt like a blow to the Daxamite’s chest. _No._ “I know that, J’onn.” _No._ “And I’m okay with it. If it means it’ll prevent a war from happening, if it means it will save countless lives, I’m okay with it. I will die a thousand times to make sure that happens.” _No, please… No._ Mon-El felt his ears ring as he shook his head. No, she couldn’t die. She couldn’t die.

“I’m not worried about myself. I’m… I’m worried about Mon-El.” Kara stopped briefly at that, her voice tear-strained. “J’onn, losing me again… It would destroy him. He was… He was barely living when we met. I could see it in his eyes. He was… He was in so much pain that I can’t even describe it. If I’m gone again… He’ll break. He’ll plunge into—into pain and…depression, and this time… This time he won’t make it out. He’ll live his life in that…in that darkness, barely even functioning. If he lives at all.” She inhaled sharply at that. “How can I ask him to change the timeline, J’onn? How am I gonna do the right thing and ask him to let me go? How is _he_ gonna do the right thing?” _I can’t,_ Mon-El couldn’t help thinking at that, leaning over the wall next to him to keep his knees from buckling and falling down. _I won’t. I won’t do it._

“I don’t want that to happen to him,” Kara continued. “He deserves… He deserves _everything_ in the world. He deserves to be happy, he deserves to—to have the future that he wants. It’s not fair that…that he has to let me go all over again.” With that Kara stopped, her breathing labored. Or was it Mon-El that was breathing heavily? He could feel himself shaking all over as tears welled up in his eyes, yet he couldn’t cry with the shock rippling through his body. He couldn’t even think clearly; his mind seemed to be in a constant state of denial of…of what he’d heard. Of what might happen.

_No, I won’t let it happen. I won’t. Kara will live. She’ll live._

“J’onn, tell me it won’t happen,” Kara continued, taking Mon-El out of his thoughts. Her voice was tinted with desperation and pain. “Please. Tell me you disagree. Tell me… Tell me that Mon-El will be okay, that he’ll manage to get through this and…and be happy again.” There was a couple of seconds of silence. “ _Please_ ,” Kara added finally, her voice breaking mid-sentence, as if she already knew the answer. As if she already knew he would never be able to survive her loss again.

“I wish I could, Kara,” J’onn whispered, and even his voice was painful. “But… But I’ve seen what happened when he first lost you. I don’t know if he can go through that again.” Mon-El pressed his lips together at that as he felt the first tear wetting his cheeks. _I can’t go through that again,_ he thought, shaking his head. _I can’t, I can’t, I can’t—_

“No,” Kara croaked, and Mon-El could almost see her shaking her head from her voice. The first sob escaped her lips. “No,” she repeated, her voice muffled now, as if she’d buried her face somewhere. Into her hands or…or J’onn’s shirt as he hugged her. Somehow Mon-El knew it was the latter. “J’onn, he can’t…”

“I know,” J’onn said almost comfortingly. “I know.” Neither of them said anything for a moment, only Kara’s sobs echoing in the DEO, before she spoke again.

“He deserves better than that, J’onn,” she said between her sobs, her teeth almost clanking together. “He deserves so much better than that.”

“You both deserve better,” was J’onn’s only answer. And as Kara cried inside J’onn’s office, her sobs rippling through the silence, Mon-El couldn’t do anything other than standing where he was, his feet frozen, silent tears streaming down his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .....So, how was that cliffhanger? Lol. Sorry about that. Please don't hate me. :)


	24. Farewell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prepare your tissues, y'all. This will be bad. As much as you think you're prepared for it...you aren't.
> 
> Trust me.

**18 th of April, 2022**

**_21:12_ **

Mon-El didn’t know for how long he’d been pacing back and forth in Kara’s house, waiting for her to come home. After… After he’d overheard her conversation with J’onn at the DEO, he just… He couldn’t face her there. He couldn’t have her tell him that…that he needed to… He couldn’t do it, not when he was close to falling apart. He needed time. To think, to gather up his thoughts together, to calm down…

Though, as he’d found out soon enough, the _calming down_ part of the plan wasn’t easy. Especially when… Especially when there was a chance that he might…need to…

_No,_ he thought as his steps halted, and he found himself facing Kara’s door. No, he wouldn’t do it. He wouldn’t go back in time and stop Rhea, not when he knew what it would cause. What it would cost him. It wasn’t… It wasn’t even a choice, an option that he could consider. He’d already failed Kara once, he’d already caused her death once. He wouldn’t do it again. No matter what, he wouldn’t— _couldn’t—_ do it. He wasn’t going to lose Kara, not again, not ever. He wasn’t going to let that happen when he could do something about it. When he could simply say no to the Time Masters and try to find another way to…to prevent that war. They had…160 years, right? That was a whole lot of time to—to search for another way to fix time. A way that…that didn’t require him to lose her— _everything_. They had time. They could do it. They…had to do it. And… And if it didn’t work, if it turned out to be impossible, then he could go back in time _after_ he and Kara lived a life together. After they’d had their future, they grew up together, got married, maybe even had children… Then he could fix time. If the war was 160 years away… They could do it, right? They should be able to do it.

He shut his eyes at that thought, clenching his fists to keep himself together, and wished with everything he had that it was true. By the time he opened his eyes there were fresh tears in them, streaming down his face, and he could feel his chest shaking with silent sobs.

He got distracted from his thoughts when he heard the lock on the door turn. His whole body froze at that, because he knew…he knew who came. Normally, after a long day like this, he’d be aching to see her, to take her in his arms, kiss her lips, rest his chin atop her head… But now…now he was terrified of seeing her. He was terrified of…of what she might tell her, what she might _ask_ him to do. Because he couldn’t do it. He wouldn’t do it. No matter what she said, no matter what _anyone_ said… Going back in time wouldn’t be worth it. _Nothing_ , not even stopping that war would be worth losing her again. She was… She was _everything._ So good and…and kind, and generous, and selfless; she always put others before herself and tried everything she could to help people; she inspired everyone by just being herself; she…she deserved much, much better than just… _dying._ Even if it was to prevent an all out war.

Mon-El couldn’t do anything other than watch the door as Kara pushed it open, her hair cascading around her head in messy curls, her chin ducked and her shoulders slumped, as if she just had the worst day of her life. Considering… Considering what had happened, what she told J’onn…he could imagine why.

“Kara.” Her name left his mouth in a gasp before he could stop himself. With that Kara stopped, just as she’d closed the door, and looked up. There was no mistaking the fear, the _pain,_ in her eyes, which only made Mon-El’s stomach lurch even more. _No,_ he thought again. That seemed to be all he could think about.

“Mon-El,” Kara croaked, her voice rusty from crying. She tried to clear her throat as she took a tentative step forward, her bag clutched in front of her as if…as if she was trying to protect herself from what was about to come, what…what they would have to talk about. Yet he knew…he knew talking about that was inevitable. He’d heard what Kara told J’onn, word for word. She believed… She believed they would have to change the timeline. She believed he had to go back and stop Rhea. But… But he couldn’t let that happen. He needed to tell her that he couldn’t do it, that even the _thought_ of it was enough to make him sick. To actually go through with it… He couldn’t stomach it. He couldn’t survive it. He’d die. Even if Rhea didn’t kill him physically while he was trying to stop her, he’d die inside. He couldn’t live with her loss again. He couldn’t live without her again.

“What are you doing here?” Kara asked, taking him out of his thoughts. At first Mon-El couldn’t find anything to say, couldn’t find an appropriate place to start. A part of him… A part of him wanted to just go ahead and tell her that he wouldn’t go back in time; no matter what happened he wouldn’t. Another part… Another part wanted to confess that he couldn’t live without her, not again, ever. And…and yet another part wanted to convince her that they could _and_ would find another way. They had time. They could do it. They just… They just needed to try.

“I overheard you,” he said instead, his voice shaky. Kara sucked in a sharp breath at that, her eyes widening. Mon-El could see that her whole body had gone still.

“When?” she asked after a couple of seconds, yet there was something in his eyes—something—that told him that she already knew. She was just… She was just afraid to talk about it. She was afraid to have that conversation right now.

Mon-El didn’t know how the next words left his mouth, but somehow…somehow they did. “When you talked to J’onn,” he said almost numbly as he stepped forward, yet he still had to put his hand on the table and lean over it to keep himself from falling down. He could feel his arm shaking. “About… About the Time Masters. I was…there.” He lifted his eyes, feeling his breath getting hitched in his throat. “I heard it. I…heard it all.” By the end his voice was so quiet that he was pretty sure Kara wouldn’t be able to hear it if she didn’t have superhearing. He could feel his heart slamming against his ribs as he searched Kara’s face, and the moment he saw her expression twist with pain his stomach coiled. He had to swallow hard before he shook his head to speak. “I won’t do it, Kara.” That seemed to get Kara to snap out of whatever she was in and shake her head.

“Mon-El…” she whispered painfully as she stepped forward, pushing her hair away from her face, but he didn’t let her get far. He shook his head fervently.

“No. _No._ I won’t do it,” he repeated, his voice tear-strained. “I’m not losing you again. I won’t do it.”

“We don’t have a choice, Mon-El,” Kara said at that, stepping closer to him, and he could see that tears had filled her eyes, so much so that they shone like comets. Mon-El felt a knot lodge in his throat again at her words.

“No—“

“I wish we had,” she continued. He shook his head again, trying to deny her words, deny the situation, yet no matter how much he closed his eyes, no matter how much he tried to shut out her words, they plowed their way into his mind. “I wish none of this had to happen, but we don’t have a choice—“

“No!” Mon-El yelled this time, cutting Kara’s words and causing her to jump. Pain flickered in her eyes at that as she watched him grasp the back of the chair in front of him, so tightly that it almost crushed beneath his fingers. Yet he didn’t care. He couldn’t care. “Kara, that’s not… That’s not gonna happen. That’s not even an option—“ He wasn’t even sure if it was him or Kara he was trying to convince when she interrupted him.

“It has to be.”

“No—“ Mon-El said again, as if it would change something, as if it would keep him from having to…to go back. He couldn’t stop his hands from shaking as Kara continued.

“There isn’t another choice,” she said, her voice cracking mid-sentence again. Mon-El pressed his lips together and shook his head.

“No—“

“You have to go back in time and stop Rhea—“

“No. I won’t. I _won’t_.”

“You _have to!”_ Kara yelled suddenly, her voice breathless. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, her chest heaving as a tear escaped her eyes. Mon-El could do nothing but watch her as she reached for her bag and took out a bunch of files. She dropped them on her table. “It wasn’t just those three people that the Time Masters kidnapped and…and killed, Mon-El,” she said, her voice considerably lower and calmer, though Mon-El could still hear it shaking. He felt the knot in his throat grow the size of a baseball, preventing him from talking, from saying _anything._ He couldn’t even _think_ clearly as Kara rummaged through them, and only looked at the files that she showed him. Numerous faces, numerous names, yet they didn’t even get encoded in his memory before Kara pulled them back.

“They’d killed thirty eight people,” she continued, shaking her head, avoiding his gaze. “Children, babies, _anyone_ that didn’t exist or died in the original timeline. They… They removed them from the timeline, _destroyed_ them, and…and they’ll keep doing it. If we don’t do what they’re asking us to do, they’ll keep doing it.” Mon-El’s eyes had already filled with so many tears when she lifted her head that he could barely see her. Yet somehow…somehow he knew she wasn’t in a much different position. “You have to let me go, Mon-El.”

_“No.”_ The word left his mouth without his intention, almost instinctively. He shook his head. _“No.”_ Pain filled Kara’s eyes at that as she let go of the files, stepping closer to him next to the table, and ducked her chin to look at his eyes. He shook his head before she spoke.

“I…I don’t like this either,” she confessed, her voice so low, as if she would cry if she spoke any louder. “But… But the only way to stop that…that war from happening 160 years later, the only way to stop the Time Masters from hurting more people is to go back in time and stop Rhea. There isn’t—“

“That’s not true!” Mon-El’s yell was shaky, and with that the back of the chair broke in his hand. He didn’t even look at that as he kept his eyes on Kara, feeling his resolve weaken by the minute. He clenched his fists, digging his nails into his palms harshly to keep himself together. “That’s not an option, Kara. Stopping Rhea… That’s not an option. We’ll figure out another way. There’s _always_ another way.” He held onto that post, hoping with _everything_ that he had that it was true, that there _was_ another way. Yet the absolutely heartbroken smile Kara offered him said exactly the opposite.

“Not this time, Mon-El.” Her voice broke at that as another tear escaped her eyes, and then another. It seemed like she gave up on trying to hold them back.

“No,” Mon-El objected at that. No. He couldn’t accept it. Straightening up he reached forward, taking Kara’s face in his hands. “No, there is. There will be. We can… We can _search_ for it, Kara. We have… We have 160 years to stop the war. We can search for another way to do that.” He dropped his hands to her shoulders and squeezed them, as if holding her just tightly enough would keep her there. “A way that doesn’t require…” His voice trailed off as a pang of pain hit him in the chest. He clenched his teeth harshly to bite back a sob, and closed his eyes.

“We don’t have time,” Kara argued at that a couple of seconds later. Mon-El felt his eyes flutter open, yet it took them some time to focus on Kara’s eyes. She forced another smile, seemingly for his sake, yet it looked so sour and fake that it hurt more than it helped him. “If we don’t do what they ask us to do until tomorrow, the Time Masters will continue killing people, Mon-El. I…I asked them. I asked them to wait, to search for another solution, but… They don’t want to risk it. They don’t want it to be too late if we can’t find a way out of this.” She shook her head and lifted her hands, grabbing Mon-El’s. He didn’t know whether she was trying to offer her support, or needed support herself, when she squeezed them. “I can’t let anyone get hurt because of me. If we don’t do this…”

“I don’t care!” Mon-El interrupted her, feeling his heart squeeze in his chest. “I don’t… I don’t care.” Something broke in Kara’s eyes at that.

“You don’t mean that,” she whispered, sounding so _sure_ of it. Mon-El shook his head as he cradled Kara’s face in her hands again.

“I’m not… I’m not losing you again, Kara,” he croaked, hating how his voice was shaking, how weak and…and broken he sounded. He bit back his tears again and continued. “I won’t, okay? Don’t—Don’t ask me to do that. Don’t ask me to lose you again.” Kara grimaced at that, shutting her eyes briefly as if she was trying to gather up her courage. So much so that Mon-El was almost terrified as she opened her mouth again.

“We don’t have a choice,” she repeated yet again, and the words shook Mon-El to the core. He shook his head, trying to deny her words, trying to step away from her and…and look away, as if none of this would be real if he just looked away. As if Kara, the files on the table, all of it would disappear once he looked away. But Kara didn’t let him go. She stepped forward and cupped his cheeks, forcing him to look at her, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “You can do this, okay?” she continued, her voice hoarse but…but strong. Confident. “You can do this. I believe in you.” With her words Mon-El shook his head again. _No. No, I can’t. I can’t._

“No,” was all he could say before Kara kept going, ignoring his words, ignoring the way tears flowed down his cheeks, ignoring everything but what she was saying.

“You are one of the strongest and most kind-hearted people I’ve met in my life,” she said, gripping the nape of his neck tightly. A tear slid down her cheek as she continued. “You taught me how to be a hero, you taught me how to be selfless, you taught me to protect others above all else, no matter what.”

“Kara, _please_ —“ Mon-El tried to cut in, tried to stop her words, tried to deny them, yet she didn’t let him.

“And that’s how I know you’ll do it,” she said instead, a painful smile pulling her lips. Her fingers brushed the ends of his hair as she stroked his cheek, her touch shaky but firm. “Because you’ll never let someone else suffer if you can do something about it.” She caught a tear that escaped his eyes with her thumb. Mon-El could feel his stomach coiling as she stared at him, could feel his heart sinking deeper and deeper with her every word, and there was nothing— _nothing_ —he could do about it. There was nothing he could do to stop it. Because… Because no matter how much he tried to deny it, no matter how much he tried to fight Kara… He knew she was right. Deep down he knew it, and it _hurt,_ it hurt so much more than he could’ve imagined that he couldn’t even breathe. There wasn’t enough oxygen in the air, or there wasn’t enough space in his lungs, but either way _he couldn’t breathe._ “Mon-El, Time Masters are taking people’s lives. _Destroying_ them. There are… There are just thirty eight cases now, but if we let this continue there could be _hundreds_ of them. Hundreds of lives ruined. We… We can’t let that happen, Mon-El. We have to fix this.” She searched his eyes at that, absentmindedly caressing his hair, holding him tightly. Mon-El didn’t want her to let go…ever. He swallowed hard, trying to breathe, to speak.

“Kara, I can’t,” he managed to whisper finally, feeling his tears blur his vision. “I _can’t_.”

“Yes, you can,” Kara countered with such determination, such _belief_ , that guilt added in the mix of feelings that churned in his stomach. He didn’t even have the strength to shake his head as she continued. “You will. Mon-El, I…I fell in love with you because of how selfless and caring you were. I _know_ you will do this. I know you’ll do the right thing.” Mon-El felt his heart almost freeze at her words, at the genuineness behind them, at the honesty shining in her eyes. He couldn’t even find anything to say, let alone actually speak, as Kara ran her fingers through his hair gently. “I love you, Mon-El,” she croaked, her voice breaking mid-sentence with the weight of pain falling on her shoulders. “I _love_ you.”

It was the first time she told him that she loved him. And yet…yet it didn’t bring Mon-El anything other than pain, because he knew…he knew what it meant. Kara… She rarely told her feelings if it wasn’t a life-or-death situation, if she didn’t think she wouldn’t have the chance to say them again. That was just… That was who she was. And the fact that she was telling him she loved him now… It meant she was saying goodbye. It meant… It meant that she didn’t think she’d see him again, or have the chance to tell him that.

Mon-El felt something shatter in his chest at that, wounding him permanently. He couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t do anything other than looking at her, with tears streaming down his face, just…just watching her. Memorizing her, because…because he knew what was about to come. He wasn’t ready for it, not even _close_ , but he knew… He knew it was coming. He would… He would have to let her go. He would have to let her die again…to save the world. To keep people from dying. To protect them above all else, to be selfless, to be a _hero_. Yet… Yet as he looked at her, he felt like anything but a hero, because…because what did that title really meant if he couldn’t save the one he loved the most? If he couldn’t save _Kara?_

He only snapped out of his stupor when he felt Kara moving her hands to his shoulders, as if she was getting ready to step back, and he couldn’t take it. He couldn’t let her go, not yet, not…not now. At least not now. He needed her. He needed her badly, so, so badly that…that it came to a point of being ridiculous, or even unhealthy. Yet that didn’t change the fact that he _needed_ her. So instead of letting her go he stepped forward to cup her cheeks and pressed his lips on hers harshly, not giving her time to object. His arms went around her shoulders, pulling her close, closer, until there was no distance between them, until their chests were flushed and their legs were tangles together. He could feel his tears, _their_ tears, mingle with the kiss, he could taste salt on her lips yet he didn’t stop kissing her. He didn’t let her get away.

And soon enough her arms were around him as well, holding his shoulders, kissing him at least as harshly as he was kissing her.

It didn’t take long for them to rip their clothes off of each other and find their way to Kara’s bed, stumbling down on it. Yet through it all they didn’t let each other go. They pulled themselves closer with each kiss, each sweep of fingers, each touch; they pulled closer to each other until there was no distance between them, as if they were trying to defy the universe, as if they were trying to tell it that no matter how much it tried, it couldn’t separate them. Mon-El knew that wasn’t true, that…that he would have to let her go sooner rather than later, much sooner than he wanted to, yet still, at that moment, he chose to believe that. He chose to believe that their love was strong enough to fight any obstacle, that one way or another they’d always be together, because the alternative…

It was just too painful to even consider.

* * *

**19 th of April, 2022**

**_04:11_ **

Mon-El didn’t know for how long he and Kara had been lying on the bed, with his head on her chest, and her hand stroking his hair gently, softly, shakily. He didn’t know how long it had been since he woke up from a very uncomfortable sleep to Kara offering him water, he didn’t know how long it had been since she pulled him to her chest when she saw him start to cry, but he knew it was at least an hour. Yet, still, his tears hadn’t dried.

They’d barely spoken a word after…after their conversation in the living room, which ended up with them in the bed. They’d barely even looked at each other eyes, not wanting to see the other in pain, not wanting to see the…the goodbye in their gazes. But they didn’t let each other go; one way or another they always kept touching each other, whether it was holding hands, stroking hair, or hugging. It felt like both of them were afraid to let go, afraid that the other would disappear if they did. Mon-El knew it didn’t make sense, but it was hard to say that to his heart. So they kept hugging each other, he kept resting his head on Kara’s chest with her hand caressing his hair…at least until she felt Kara shift underneath him. She pulled back as she guided his head up until they were lying on their sides, facing each other.

Mon-El could see the wet tear marks on her face too.

“I need to tell you something,” she said, first words she’d spoken. Mon-El felt his heart lurch at that. No. _No._ Not now. He wasn’t ready for it. Not yet.

“Kara, we…we still have time,” he tried to say as he reached forward and cupped her cheek, yet she just shook her head at that, looking at him through unshed tears. She tried to flash him a smile, but it faltered way too quickly.

“I’m not taking any chances,” she whispered, pushing a strand of his hair away from his forehead. “I need you to hear this. I know…” She cleared her throat at that when her voice sounded unintelligible. “I know you’d probably rather hearing it from your Kara, but I… I still want you to hear this.” She gripped the nape of his neck tightly, in a way that made Mon-El’s stomach twist with fear, before she continued. Her voice was still tear-strained despite her attempts to keep it level. “I, Kara Zor-El of Krypton…”

Mon-El felt his heart plummet in his chest at those words, as he realized what she was doing. His whole body froze as he just stared at Kara, unable to say anything, to _do_ anything, as his hand on her shoulder went limp. _“No,”_ was all he managed to croak out. No, she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t… She couldn’t say those words. It meant… It would mean it was final. It was goodbye. A… A final gift from her to him before he left, before he lost her again: Offering him the words he so wanted to hear from her mouth. But he wasn’t ready. No. Not yet. _Not yet_. He wasn’t…

“Take you, Mon-El of Daxam—“ Kara continued, trying to smile through her tears. Mon-El felt panic clawing at his heart.

“Kara, _no_ —“ he tried to stop her, he tried to interject, but she ignored him as she stroked his cheek.

“To be my lawfully wedded husband,” she said, her voice breaking mid-sentence, yet she still kept going, as if she was determined to finish her words no matter how much they hurt. Mon-El, on the other hand… The last thing he wanted was for her to finish those words. “To have and to hold—“

“Don’t say that,” he pleaded, shaking his head desperately. “Please, Kara. _Please.”_ Kara just flashed him a painful smile at that, pressing her lips together to pull herself together, before she continued.

“From this day forward, for better and for worse, for richer, for poorer—“

“No.” Every word that came out of Kara’s mouth felt like another blow to his heart, another crack, as he tried to stop her again as a last attempt. “ _No.”_ Yet she still kept on.

“In sickness and in health…” She stopped, as if she was thinking about something, before she changed the last words of the vow. “As long as we carry each other in our hearts.”

And that was the sentence that broke the last tethers that kept Mon-El from completely falling apart. He felt his heart shatter at that, completely, with its pieces cutting his insides. He felt someone gutting him inside out, squeezing his chest, making it hard to breathe. His vision blurred because of his tears yet again, and…and he couldn’t stop any of that. He couldn’t stop any of that from happening, he couldn’t stop himself from breaking, and it hurt so much, too much, that he couldn’t handle it anymore. He couldn’t handle it. It was all… It was just too much.

He felt the first sob leave his lips as Kara reached forward, tugging him close again, letting him bury his face to the crook of her neck. She rubbed his back, stroked his hair as she let him cry, let him get it all out, yet…yet she didn’t say a reassuring word. What could she say anyway? That she was there? Both of them knew she wouldn’t be in a matter of hours. That she would be gone again. Or… Or that it would all be okay? Because it wouldn’t be. It would _never_ be okay. So she stayed silent, offering just her arms to comfort Mon-El, and she never let him go, not even when his sobs turned into silent ones, not even when they dissipated and left their place to tears instead. She didn’t even let him go as he pulled back desperately, one hand on her waist, holding her so tightly, so desperately, so terrified of having to let her go. So terrified of the moment he would have to do that.

“I can’t live without you,” he confessed finally, the words leaving his lips as a rusty whisper. Even that burned his throat as he shook his head. “Kara, I… I _can’t_ live without you.” A painful smile tugged at Kara’s lips at that.

“You won’t have to,” she said, putting her hand on his cheek, pointing at his temple. “I’ll always be here…” She then moved her hand over his chest, right where his heart rested. “And here.” She gripped his shoulder at that, squeezing it, as if trying to tell him that her words were true. That she’d…she’d always be in his heart. But… But there was only one problem with that: Mon-El already knew it. Kara had made herself a permanent place in his heart, and no matter how much he tried he knew he would never be able to remove her from there. But that wasn’t even close to having her physically by his side. That wasn’t even close to being together with her.

“That’s…” he tried to say, not even caring about how weak it sounded. He pressed his lips together. “That’s not the same thing. Kara… It’s not the same thing.” Something in Kara’s eyes told him that she understood what he was talking about. No matter how much she didn’t want it to be true…she understood it. Her hand fell over his, which had been clenched into a fist for some time now, and she took it gently. Mon-El knew there would be nail marks on it as he let her open his palms. Yet there really was nothing left to hide from her.

Still, it was hard to see the pain flickering in Kara’s eyes when she realized what those wounds on his palm meant. She traced them with the tip of her finger, so gently, so softly, before she laced their fingers together and looked up at him. She was holding his hand so tightly that it almost hurt, but he didn’t care. Maybe… Maybe if she held him tightly enough she’d be able to stay with him, and they’d be together. Maybe he wouldn’t have to let her go.

“Mon-El, I need you to listen to me,” she said, her voice serious despite her tears. “I need you to listen to me without interrupting.” She searched his eyes to make sure he understood before she continued. “I know you are blaming yourself for my death in the other timeline. I know you think that my life was ruined because I met you, that I wouldn’t be with you if I knew what my fate would be. But you’re wrong.” Mon-El opened his mouth to object at that, knowing it wasn’t true, it couldn’t be true, but she didn’t let her. She pressed her fingers on his lips to shut him up before she continued. “I’m here to tell you that you _are_ wrong about that. I might not be the woman you spent six years with, but even in those three short weeks we’d been together, I’ve gotten to see how amazing a man you were. Mon-El, I’d never been happier than when I was with you, and if I think that, I cannot imagine your Kara thinking otherwise after spending years with you, after getting _engaged_ with you.” She offered him a sad smile as she traced the lines of his face with her fingers. Mon-El didn’t say anything as he waited for her to continue; he wouldn’t be able to say anything anyway because of the knot in his throat. “I don’t blame you for my death. It wasn’t your fault. And I know you didn’t steal my happiness or ruined my life. On the contrary, Mon-El, you’ve made it _so much better._ And I know… I know that I would still be with you, I would still taste those five years of happiness with you even if I knew I’d be dead at the end. Because… Because five years with you is much better than a lifetime without you. Do you understand me?” Her hands stilled with that as she stared at his eyes, waiting for his answer. He couldn’t say anything at first as he swallowed hard, shaking his head. He wanted to believe her. He wanted to believe that…that she was telling the truth, but doubt was churning in his stomach, because…because he knew he’d ruined her life. He knew he’d stolen her happiness.

“Kara…” he whispered desperately, but Kara didn’t let him get far as she gripped his shoulder.

_“Do you understand me?”_ she demanded again, her eyes shining with…with such honesty that Mon-El found himself nodding. What else could he do anyway? Even if Kara was lying, even if she was just saying those words to make him feel better… Believing them was far easier than the alternative, and if she was offering him that choice…then he’d take it.

“Good,” Kara whisper at that as she scooted closer to him, still staring at his eyes intently, her iron grip around the nape of his neck not letting him go. “Good, because I also need you to promise me something.” Mon-El felt his heart—or at least whatever was left of it—squeeze at that.

“Kara…” he tried to say, to tell her that he couldn’t make a promise he couldn’t keep, but Kara didn’t let him. She continued before he could say anything more.

“No, don’t say anything, just listen to me,” she almost pleaded, taking his hand into her empty one and squeezing it. “I know… I know you’ll be hurting when you get back, and I know you’ll want to give up but…but don’t do it. _Please_.” Her voice shook so much at the last word that something cracked inside Mon-El. He couldn’t find his voice as she continued. “Don’t plunge into depression, don’t let yourself get lost in the…the pain. I know it’ll be hard but…try to move on. Please. Get help for it if you need, but try to move on, be happy, and…and find someone else. Find someone that will make you as happy as we made each other.” Mon-El bit the inside of his cheek harshly at that as tears clouded his vision, and he shook his head.

“You know that’s impossible,” he whispered. To be happy without Kara… It was impossible. Yes, there would be moments of happiness, there _had_ been moments of happiness in that year she wasn’t with him, but…but it was never long term. Her loss always hit him, whether it took hours or days, but it always came to haunt him. The pain…it always— _always—_ returned, one way or another. “Kara, you know I can’t… I can’t be happy without you. It’s impossible.” It hurt to say those words, but what hurt even more was to see that Kara could see it too. She pressed her lips together as she shook her head, squeezing his shoulder, seemingly trying to keep herself together.

“Promise me you’ll try,” she said finally, desperately, as tears filled her eyes again. “Just…just promise me you’ll try at least. _Please_.” Mon-El was ready to say that he couldn’t do it, it would be too hard, but something in her voice made him stop. Because he could see it, he could _hear_ it: She wanted him to be okay. She needed him to be okay, and she needed to know… She needed to know he’d at least try to be okay. He remembered what she told J’onn about that: She didn’t think he’d survive it. J’onn didn’t think he’d survive it, and…and granted, he was inclined to agree with them. He _knew_ he couldn’t survive it.

But if it was Kara’s last wish to know that he’d at least try to survive… Then he had to do it. He’d let her down way too many times. He couldn’t let her down at this too. So he nodded, even though he didn’t feel like it, even though it felt like he was dying inside he nodded, reaching up to wipe Kara’s cheek. He was clenching his teeth so harshly that he was worried they would break as Kara smiled at him.

“Thank you,” she said, gratitude filling her eyes, and she reached forward, planting a slow but long kiss on his lips. A goodbye kiss, almost. A kiss that broke whatever was left inside Mon-El, before she rested her cheek against her chest and hugged him close, as close as she could.

And they stayed there like that, hugging each other, crying, shaking, until Mon-El heard a rumbling coming from the roof. He knew Kara heard it too from the way her hand stilled on his stomach: The telltale sign of a spaceship approaching. Waverider.

His heart lurched in his chest when he realized what that meant.

It was time.

* * *

**_07:03_ **

Mon-El was gripping Kara’s hand so tightly as they walked inside Waverider that he was pretty sure blood didn’t reach her fingers. Not that she was any different at that point. She didn’t even look at the spaceship around her, which was impressive Mon-El had to admit, and only kept her eyes on the floor.

He gulped, maybe for the hundredth time, yet he still felt like there was a huge knot in his throat as he lifted his eyes and faced the four Time Masters. Sara, Jax, Mick, and Ray Palmer, who was apparently paralyzed because of a spinal cord injury, and had to operate behind computers only.

Mon-El couldn’t help noticing how tired all of them looked, especially now that they weren’t in their fighting gear. Sara’s pink hair was messy and her skin was considerably pale, Mick had huge circles under his eyes, Jax’s cheeks were collapsed and he seemed way thinner than Mon-El remembered him, and Ray… On his wheelchair he looked like someone who wished to die. It felt like the soul of the team was sucked by something.

At that point, Mon-El could relate to them.

“You came,” was Sara’s greeting to him and Kara as they stopped in front of the Time Masters. She almost seemed surprised at that, yet she masked it pretty quickly and efficiently as she turned to Mon-El. “I’m assuming this means you accepted to go back in time and stop Rhea.”

All the Daxamite could manage was a nod at that. Gratitude filled Sara’s eyes at that as she inclined her head. “We thank you for that.” And that was basically the only emotion she showed before her face went blank and she straightened up. “We prepared a time shuttle for you to take you to the day Kara became Supergirl,” she started explaining. “You will be transported to the time right before Rhea caused Alex’s car accident, when Rhea is most distracted. But that also means you won’t have much time, so you need to be fast and efficient. Don’t waste your time while you’re there.” Sara’s directions jumbled in Mon-El’s mind, even as he tried to keep them together. But with the…with the sickening feeling in his stomach, the pain, guilt, and shame, it was impossible. Yet he still tried. He tried to understand, because… What chance did he have?

Sara then turned to Kara after making sure he understood. “Kara, in the meantime you will take Jax and Mick to the DEO to arrest Rhea. She is a time criminal, and she will be dealt with accordingly, should Mon-El fail at stopping her.” She stopped at that, and the room went silent for a couple of seconds before Kara broke it. The discomfort was almost visible in the air.

“You won’t be coming with me?” she asked Sara. “But I thought…” Sara cleared her throat at that to cut Kara’s words. Mon-El didn’t miss the glance she shared with Ray before she turned to the two superheroes.

“No, unfortunately, I have another business to attend to. But don’t worry, Mick and Jax are capable of bringing her here without any trouble.” At that her eyes flickered back and forth between Mon-El and Kara. Mon-El almost felt numb watching her clasping her hands together in front of herself, yet still, nothing in the whole world could numb the excruciating pain in his chest. “Any questions?” Sara asked.

Mon-El couldn’t help it as the word left his mouth. “Yes,” he whispered, and then he cleared his throat when he realized how hoarse he sounded. “I…” His gaze flickered to Kara, only to see the confusion in her eyes, before he turned back to the Time Masters. “Can’t Kara come with me?” he said finally, tightening his grip on Kara’s hand. “Please,” he pleaded. “She doesn’t… She doesn’t deserve to die.”

“Mon-El…” Kara croaked at that and reached up to rub his back, but he barely felt it. He shook his head as he continued.

“Please.”

Sara didn’t seem surprised at his request, yet she couldn’t help it as pain flickered in her eyes. She ducked her chin and cleared her throat.

“I’m sorry, but we can’t allow that. The timeline should be returned back to its original state,” she said finally, her voice almost devoid of emotion. Almost. Mon-El could still hear a bit of understanding behind her words. Yet that…that didn’t help it as he felt the last bit of hope crush in his face, and it certainly didn’t stop the tears from rushing into his eyes as he turned his gaze to the floor and tried to hide them. He heard, more than saw, Sara step forward at that. She put her hand on his arm. “I wish we could do something about it. I know how it feels like to lose someone you love.” She ducked her chin at that to catch Mon-El’s eyes, but he couldn’t look up at her. He couldn’t bear it. It already… It already hurt too much, but looking at Sara, the woman that forced him to let Kara go again… He couldn’t do it. So he only listened as Sara continued. “We were a team of six when we went to stop Rhea. She killed two of our friends, one of which was my husband, and paralyzed Ray.” She didn’t go into the details of that—as she was obviously hurting—but she cleared his throat as Mon-El lifted his head. He couldn’t even manage to say he was sorry before she pulled back. “So I’m sure you understand why we have to stop Rhea, Mon-El. Because if we don’t… My teammates would’ve died for nothing. My _husband_ would’ve died for nothing. And that is something I can’t allow to happen.”

That was the last thing she said before she turned around and rested her hands on the table behind her. Mon-El felt a tear slip down his cheek without his intention, yet if it wasn’t for Kara, who stepped in front of him and took his face in her hands to wipe the tear away, he wouldn’t have even bothered with it. He could feel himself slowly breaking apart as he looked down at her.

“Hey,” she whispered and tried to smile at him, but it failed way too quickly. She grasped the nape of his neck. “I’ll always be with you,” she promised, knowing she wouldn’t be able to keep it, yet still wishing to believe it. Mon-El couldn’t say anything at that as an answer; he didn’t have it in him to _do_ anything, let alone _talk_. He only stared at Kara, the woman that he loved, the woman that was his everything, wondering…wondering how he would let her go again. Wondering how he could survive it.

Knowing he couldn’t.

He was distracted from his thoughts when he saw Ray wheel next to Sara. “The shuttles are ready,” he informed her before he reached forward and took her hand, squeezing it as support. Sara nodded before she pushed herself off of the table and turned to Kara and Mon-El. Her face had turned back to its original emotionless state.

“Good. Let’s go then.”

There was nothing the two superheroes could do other than following her and the rest of her team as they made their way around the Waverider to where the shuttles were. Sara stopped in front of one of them, glanced at Ray, before nodding. “This is your shuttle,” she informed Mon-El without looking at him. “You just need to enter it and pull the handle inside, and it will take you where you need to go.” She stopped for a second at that, staring at the pod, and then turned to the Daxamite. Either it was a figment of his imagination, or there was genuine agony in her eyes. “We’ll let you say your goodbyes. Don’t be too late.”

That was the last thing she said, the last thing _any_ of them said before they turned around to leave. And now that they were alone…

Mon-El couldn’t take his eyes off of the shuttle. All that numbness he’d been feeling around the Time Masters were gone. Now… Now pain had hit him in full force, and he felt himself crumble underneath it without being able to do anything. This was it. This was… This was when he would be losing Kara. Again. Forever. She’d be gone again, she’d be _dead_ again, and…and he wasn’t ready. He would never be ready. All he wanted right now was to grab her and whisk her off of here, somewhere far away in the world, where they could be together. They could be happy. He wanted it so badly that it hurt, because he knew… He knew it would be impossible. The whole thing… It was like a double-edged sword. Leaving Kara would leave him permanently broken, in a way he would never recover from. But staying here, letting all those people die just because he wanted to be happy… He couldn’t live with himself. Either way he’d be hurting, either way it would be painful, yet still…

Yet still a part of him wanted to say “damn consequences” and stay, because the thought of losing Kara was worse than anything else.

“Please don’t leave me,” he found himself saying a couple of seconds later as he turned to Kara. Tears were already streaming down his face, and he could feel himself shaking as he clenched his fists. He knew it was impossible, yet he still repeated his words. “Please… Please don’t leave me.” Kara forced a smile at that as she reached up, cupping his cheeks, staring deeply into his eyes.

“I won’t,” she said, her voice cracked, before she reached up and pressed a kiss on his lips. A tear-strained goodbye kiss. Mon-El felt his eyes flutter close as he leaned into it, not wanting to pull back, not wanting it to end, _ever…_

Yet he still found himself pulling back too soon. It was too soon. All of it. What he had with Kara… It wasn’t enough. It hadn’t even been three weeks since he got her back, and now…and now he was losing her. It wasn’t fair. _It wasn’t fair._ Yet that didn’t change what he had to do.

Kara smiled at him one last time and stroked his hair before she stepped back, opening the door of the shuttle for him, as if she knew he wouldn’t be able to do it himself. Mon-El’s knees were shaking so much as he walked inside that it was a miracle he didn’t fall down before he reached his seat. It took him three tries to buckle his seatbelt because of his trembling fingers, and after that…after that he found himself looking up, through the shuttle’s window, to Kara. She was standing right outside, tears streaming down her face. She smiled at him through those tears when their gazes met and reached forward, putting a hand over the glass. Mon-El could see in her eyes what she was thinking.

And then his hand was over hers before he even realized it. _I love you,_ she mouthed at that, once, twice, as if she wanted to make sure Mon-El knew what she was saying. He felt his stomach coil as he mouthed it back.

_I love you._

He realized it was the first time he truly said it to Kara in this timeline. Yes, he’d thought about it many times, but it was as if…it was as if he was scared to admit it to her. To make things between them more serious only to lose her all over again. But… But he was already losing her. He’d already lost her, so what was the point of hiding it anymore? Maybe she already knew it anyway, but…but she deserved to hear it too. So he said it again, and again, seeing Kara’s eyes almost shine at that before she nodded, telling him that she understood.

And then she pulled her hand back. Mon-El felt his heart completely shatter at that, leaving its place to a complete and utter hollowness, knowing what she was signaling. It was time. He needed to go. He needed to leave her. He needed to change the timeline and lose her again.

He knew it would be hard, yet at that moment he hadn’t realized just how _hard_ it would be, how every single muscle in his body would tell him to leave the shuttle and stay with her. He turned to the handle Sara talked about, blinking several times to get rid of the tears in his eyes and focus, no matter how impossible it was. He grabbed the handle with shaky hands, pain churning in his stomach continuously. He hesitated only for a second as a part of him urged him to look back at Kara, to see her one last time, but…he didn’t do it. Because he knew that if he did all of his resolve would break and he’d bail. He wouldn’t do it. So he didn’t look back at her.

And he pulled down the handle.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this isn't going to make anything better but........sorry?


	25. Sorrow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I've been saying this a lot lately, but if you have tissues left after the last couple of chapters, I'd suggest you to hold onto them. You know, just in case. Not that anything bad really happens in this chapter :)
> 
> Okay, well, who am I kidding? It's Second Chance we're talking about, right? There's angst in every single chapter lol, literally.
> 
> But anyway, I hope you (still) like this! :)

**19 th of April, 2022**

**_08:21_ **

Mon-El woke up with the light of sun falling on his face. He shifted on the bed to try and avoid it before he absentmindedly turned around, not even bothering to open his eyes. The familiar scent of vanilla mixed with cinnamon hit his nose and enveloped him in a sense of warmth and safety. A smile tugged his lips at that. There was an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach, telling him that there was something wrong, yet he ignored it as he let the warmth wash over him, reaching to his side to wrap his arms around Kara and pull her close—

Yet all his arm hit was an empty bed. His eyes flickered open at that as his heart stammered, and it took him quite some time to shake off the sleepiness and orient himself. And he was right, Kara’s side of the bed was really empty. The blanket was ruffled and mostly thrown to Mon-El’s side, but it was…empty. The uneasiness grew in his stomach as he tried to think of what could’ve happened to make her leave early. Was it a weekday? Had she… Had she gone to work? Yet somehow, a voice inside him told him that it wasn’t the case. Then what—

Everything hit him then. Everything he’d been through the previous day, the previous weeks. The timeline change, having Kara back, only to…only to lose her again… Stopping Rhea before she could cause that car accident… Kara… _dying…_ all over again. And the moment all of those memories filled his mind… He felt something break in his heart. Or…or whatever was left of it, because…because he wasn’t sure if there was, not after having to say goodbye to Kara again, not after having to live another _forever_ without her.

Tears filled Mon-El’s eyes at such an incredible rate that even he was surprised, because in a matter of seconds, the first of them was sliding down his cheeks. He shut his eyes to stop them from flowing, he covered his mouth to keep himself from sobbing, yet it didn’t work. It didn’t _work,_ because it…it just hurt _too much_. No matter how much he tried to suppress his sobs they kept lining up in his throat, right behind the baseball sized knot, and no matter how much he tried to push back his tears they kept coming back. Kara… He’d lost Kara again. He’d lost the love of his life _again_. As if… As if the first time hadn’t been enough, the universe had decided to give her back to him for three weeks— _three short weeks—_ only to take her back again. He wouldn’t see her again, he wouldn’t hear his laugh, watch her smile, feel her touch, hug, kiss… She was gone. _She was gone,_ and it hurt, it hurt so much that he couldn’t even _breathe._ This was… This was even _worse_ than the first time he lost her. Then… Then he’d been caught off guard. He wasn’t prepared, and he…he didn’t know what was awaiting him in the future. But now, knowing that… He didn’t even want to get out of bed. He wanted to stay there forever, crying, sobbing, clutching Kara’s pillow in his hands, until he died. Honestly… Honestly it would’ve been a welcome death. But it hurt too much for even _that_. Even the thought of staring at the ceiling absentmindedly hurt, knowing every second of it he’d relive his memories with Kara, the memories that he’d never get to experience again. The dates, the dinners, the movie and game nights, the vacations… They were gone, they were gone _forever_ and it was… It was too much.

He needed a drink.

The thought seeped into his head so quickly and desperately, as if his mind was attempting to rescue him from the weight of pain that threatened to crush him. He needed a drink. Alcohol. The strongest kind. He needed to… He needed to forget the pain, he needed to forget _himself_ before all this…this grief, guilt, shame, agony killed him. He promised… He promised Kara that he would try to survive. Move on. The latter… He knew he couldn’t do it. He’d tried it before and it…it didn’t work. The former, on the other hand… He _could_ survive, technically. If he numbed the pain with alcohol, with…with drugs, he could survive. If he managed to get this weight off of his chest… It wouldn’t be living, or even functioning, but he would…he would at least be physically alive. That was all he could ask for in Kara’s absence, because…because she’d been his life. His everything. How could… How could anyone expect him to _live_ without her?

He blinked his tears away and bit back his sobs as he pushed himself off of the bed. Weirdly it was…it was easier than he thought it would be. It was like…even though he was _emotionally_ tired his body was okay. As if he was physically strong. That was something he never experienced, not until he got Kara back in the previous timeline, yet he wasn’t even in a position to question that as he stood up.

It took him a couple of seconds to find his balance, to get rid of the blurriness in his vision, and make his way to the kitchen. His knees were shaking so much that it was a miracle he even made it there without falling down. He didn’t waste time before he went to the refrigerator and opened it. He knew… He _remembered_ there was a bottle of Zakkarian ale he kept there, in case of emergencies, in case the whole thing started to hurt _too much_ and he couldn’t _bear_ it. It’d been… It’d been something he always felt ashamed about, especially since he swore he wouldn’t put a drop of alcohol in his mouth, not after he saw what happened to him after losing Kara. Not after… Not after that first month. If he wanted to heal, if he wanted to get better, he needed to stop drinking, and…he could only do that if there was no alcohol at home. Yet this bottle… He kept it, as if a part of him knew a day would come, whether in a month, a year, or a decade, where it all hurt so much that he wouldn’t be able to deal with it without alcohol. And today…today was that day.

He opened the refrigerator door, so harshly that it almost came off its hinges, and looked at where the alcohol bottle was supposed to be. Yet what he saw caught him by surprise. There wasn’t just one Zakkarian ale bottle there, there was _three_ of them, and they…they weren’t hidden either. They were put in plain sight, and he could see… He could see that one of them was half empty. His stomach lurched into his stomach. So he must’ve already given up on trying to move on after Kara’s death anniversary. In those four weeks that he…he didn’t remember, he must’ve given up, or the pain must’ve been too much, and…and he must’ve started drinking again. He couldn’t even blame himself for it, knowing how much it hurt even then, yet still…still shame churned in his stomach. Because he’d given up. Because he wasn’t strong enough. Because… Because his mother had been right when she said he was too weak to let Kara go, too weak to live without her. He couldn’t do it, not without…not without alcohol or drugs, _something_ to numb the pain.

He tried to ignore those thoughts and push away the shame as he grabbed one of the bottles with shaky hands. The half empty one. He was pretty sure it wouldn’t be enough for him to forget the pain, not even _close,_ but…but at least it was a start. And now that he knew there was two more bottles… It had to be enough.

He straightened up after shutting the refrigerator door, preparing to open the bottle…when he saw what was on the refrigerator, right in front of him, at his eye level. And he came to a complete stop. It was… It was a photo of him and Kara, a _selfie,_ taken obviously by Kara. She was smiling one of her bright, genuine smiles at the camera with her hair cascading around her head and falling down her shoulders in soft curls. She was obviously in a formal dress, with her hair and make up done, which made Mon-El think it must’ve been taken on one of their dinner dates. And he was…he was next to her, with his forehead resting against her temple, his nose snuggled into her hair, just…just smiling. Smiling so _happily,_ so _brightly_ that it…it hurt to look at it. Because Kara was the only one that could make him smile like that. She was the only one that could make him as happy as… _that._ He would never have that kind of happiness without her, not even if he lived as long as he could, not even if he _survived_ the next…whatever years without the pain killing him.

But… But his smile wasn’t what stopped Mon-El from opening the bottle. It was _Kara’s_ smile, it was the way _her_ eyes shone, with joy twinkling in them. Because… Because she looked happy too. So happy, so carefree, so joyous that she almost shone as bright as the sun. She was… She was so _beautiful._ He couldn’t find another word to describe it, or else there weren’t enough words to capture just how _beautiful_ she was. How… How _happy_ she was. Kara’s words came back to him at that. She’d told him… She’d told him she’d been the happiest when she was with him. She’d told him she would choose him even if she knew she’d die. She’d told him… She’d told him he was so selfless, so kind, that he would do the right thing, no matter how much it hurt. That he was a hero. She’d… She’d believed in him. They’d spent merely three weeks together in that timeline and she still _believed_ in him, she still saw something in him that he never saw in himself. She believed he could do the right thing, and she…she made him promise that once she was gone he would try to move on. Try to get help. Not plunge into depression, darkness, but… _move on._

And he was giving up before even an hour passed since he woke up in this timeline. He was giving up, breaking his promise…failing her once again. That was all he seemed to be doing anyway. He always failed her. He couldn’t protect her, he couldn’t keep her alive, he couldn’t even…he couldn’t even respect her wishes. If she was here…. If she was the one that promised to move on… Mon-El knew she’d do it. No matter how hard, how _painful,_ it might be, she wouldn’t directly resort to drinking. She was… She was so _strong_ , stronger than he could ever hope to be. He was just so… _weak_.

Tears blurred his vision as he kept staring at the photograph, not being able to turn his eyes away. He didn’t even _remember_ when or where that photo was taken. He didn’t remember Kara’s navy blue dress or his matching jacket. Still… Still, he was familiar with the happiness on their faces. Because they’d been happy. They’d been so… _so_ happy.

He couldn’t do it.

He felt the alcohol bottle shatter in his hand, the pieces scattering around the floor. The liquid had wet his hand, his wrist, his clothes and feet, creating a puddle right underneath him, yet he couldn’t care. He couldn’t drink. He couldn’t just…just break his promise to Kara, he couldn’t fail her all over again. It hurt, it hurt _too much_ to be without her, but he couldn’t do it. It was her dying wish for him to move on. For him to be…happy. What kind of a boyfriend—a _man—_ he’d be if he just…just disrespected that? Ignored that? He couldn’t do it.

He felt the last piece of tether that was keeping him from breaking apart, the last piece of duck tape gluing his broken pieces together, break, and he found himself on the floor when his knees gave out. The sobs that had been lining in his throat, right behind that knot, came out, rippling through him, shaking him to his core. It hurt. _It hurt_ so much that he couldn’t _breathe,_ he couldn’t _think._ Air got hitched in his throat as he tried to inhale, burning him inside out, just like the tears streaming down his face was burning his cheeks. Kara was gone. She was gone. _Gone._ He’d had… He’d had his second chance with her, to be with her, and it all blew up in his face…again. Just as it always happened whenever he thought he could be happy. Whenever he thought that he’d finally, _finally,_ had some happiness, whenever he thought that it would _last,_ it got ripped away from him, leaving him broken all over again. The more it happened, the harder it got to heal from that, and this time… This time he was worried the blow would leave him broken permanently. There was no going back from this. No healing, no moving on. Just… Just darkness and pain. That was all he could see when he looked at his future. Darkness and…pain.

He was so wrapped around in his thoughts, with his sobs ringing in his ears, that he didn’t hear the thump coming from right in front of him. Yet… Yet he heard it when a familiar voice cut through everything, even the ringing in his ears and the loudness of his cries. He heard it so, so clearly, that it felt like another blow to his heart.

“Oh my God, Mon-El!” He lifted his head inadvertently at that, even though he knew there was no way the voice could be real. It was… It was probably a figment of his imagination. It’d happened to him way too many times for him to be fooled by it anymore. He always thought he heard her voice, especially in the first months he’d lost her, and he thought it was real. He thought she was back, only to find out that…that he just hallucinated it. Somehow… Somehow that hurt so much that he’d stopped believing in her voice anymore. Believing that he caught a glimpse of her walking around a corner. Believing she was back, only to find out that…that she was gone.

Yet still, as he looked up through a veil of tears, seeing her kneel down in front of him in a blurry haze of golden, blue and red, he couldn’t help the broken smile that pulled his lips. “Kara,” he whispered, knowing she was just a hallucination, but he couldn’t stop the word. He barely saw her because of his tears, he could barely focus on anything, yet still he couldn’t help thinking how beautiful she was. There was probably a lot of things he could say to the hallucination then. He could tell her that he didn’t give up. He could tell her that he’d try to move on. He could tell her that he’d try to be the hero she believed he was.

He could tell her that he loved her.

Yet none of those was what escaped his lips as he stared at her. “You’re so beautiful,” he almost choked out between his sobs, clenching his fists over his knees and ducked his chin, shutting his eyes painfully. Of course she was beautiful. She was, and would always be, so beautiful, even if she was dead. But that… That didn’t change the fact that she was gone. Her hallucination didn’t change the fact that she was gone, _forever._

“Mon-El,” he heard her whisper. His name on her lips, despite it not being real, rippled through him as he opened his eyes again. She was still in front of him, still kneeling down, still there. He didn’t even know if he should be glad or not that he was still hallucinating as she reached forward with one hand, as if she wanted to cup his cheek. He pressed his lips together at that as he prepared himself to see her hand on him without feeling it, preparing to let go of the hallucination, no matter how beautiful it was. Because it might’ve been beautiful, but it wasn’t… It wasn’t real. No matter how much he wanted it to be, it wasn’t—

He felt a hand cupping his cheek, firmly, her thumb brushing over his cheekbone and wiping a tear away. His whole body froze at that, and his sobs died so quickly that even he was surprised. He couldn’t do anything but stare at Kara, at her arm, at the hand…at the hand that was on his cheek. At the hand he could _feel_.

No. _No,_ that was…that was impossible. He shouldn’t be feeling her hand. She wasn’t here. She wasn’t alive. She was dead, gone, _forever._ It was… It should be just a hallucination, nothing more. It couldn’t be anything more… And yet, he could feel it as she moved her hand on his cheek, as the tips of her fingers brushed the ends of his hair, as she scooted closer to him so that her knees were touching his legs… He could feel _all of them._ Every single touch. He could _feel_ them.

“Hey, hey, baby,” Kara whispered softly, caressing his cheek as she leaned forward. Mon-El could feel his heart slamming against his ribs as he just listened to her. He couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t even move, with the fear that…that Kara would disappear if he did. That he would stop feeling her touches and she would turn out to be nothing more than a hallucination. He just… He just watched her as he spoke, listening to her, letting her voice wash over him, savoring every second that she didn’t disappear. That he still saw her in front of him, as stunning as ever, with her golden curls and Supergirl suit. “I’m here,” she continued, squeezing his knee. “I’m here. What’s wrong? What happened?”

He couldn’t find the right words to answer. He lifted his hand slowly, so slowly, not wanting to startle the…the hallucination and make her disappear, keeping his eyes on her. Keeping his gaze on Kara’s face. He reached up and put his hand on hers, a part of him still expecting to feel his cheek instead of her hand, yet…yet his hand covered hers over his cheek. It was her hand. He could feel _her hand_. His fingers were shaking so, so badly that it took him a couple of tries to part her fingers and lace his through them, yet even through that he could still _feel her._ Even as he gripped her hand tightly and brought it in front of him, even as she turned her hand so that she could properly hold his, even as her worried gaze searched his face… He could still _feel her hand._ It didn’t disappear. It didn’t go away. It was there.

She was there.

His heart numbed at that realization as he struggled to process it for a couple of seconds, but then it started thundering in his chest. He turned his eyes from their hands to Kara’s eyes. “Kara?” he whispered, his voice so small, so broken that he saw tears fill Kara’s eyes. She squeezed his hand, taking it in between both of hers and nodded.

“I’m here,” she told him, pressing a kiss on his knuckles. A kiss that he could feel. He could feel her lips on his skin. “I’m here, baby.”

She was _here._

Realization hit him only then. She was there. Kara was there, in front of him, and she was real. She wasn’t a hallucination or a…or a dream. He was pretty sure he was awake now, which meant…which meant Kara was there. _She was there._

At that moment he didn’t even care about how that could be possible as he threw himself on her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and pulling her close to his chest, burying his face to the crook of her neck. Sobs started leaving his mouth yet again, shaking his body all over, yet this time… This time they weren’t caused by pain. They were caused by relief, happiness, joy. Of… Of having something back that you thought you lost forever. Of having your love, your _everything_ back. Because Kara was there. She was in his arms, with his face buried on her shoulder, and he could _feel_ her. He could feel it as she rubbed his back, as she stroked his hair, he could hear her as she whispered comforting words to his ear. She was hugging him just as fiercely as he was hugging her, she was holding him just as tightly that he was holding her, and she didn’t let go.

“Shh,” she whispered to his ear as she rested her cheek on his, and Mon-El shuddered when her hair brushed his skin. Another reminder that she was there. _She was there_ , and it felt so good, so, _so_ good that he couldn’t even explain it. He couldn’t even _begin_ to explain it. He shut his eyes, reveling in the feeling of her arms around him, as she continued. “It’s okay. You’re okay,” she said, squeezing his shoulder, as if she was trying to remind him that she was there. She was with him. _She was with him._ “I’m here. You’re not alone. I’m here.” She repeated those words, over and over again, she kept rubbing his back and stroking his hair, she kept caressing his arms and cheeks until his sobs turned to silent cries, until tears no longer streamed down his face, until he stopped trembling and managed to calm himself down. She never let go of him. Ever. She stayed with him, by his side, through it all, and it…it was such an incredible feeling that he couldn’t describe it. All the time he’d cried for her loss, he _wished_ she was there, he wished she could hug him through it, tell him she was with him and he would be okay. And now… To actually have that… To have her by his side… Alive, breathing, there… It was all he could ask for. It was all he could want.

Kara only pulled back from his embrace when she was sure he wasn’t crying anymore, yet still she didn’t let him go. She gently cupped his cheeks and wiped his tears away, her concerned gaze traveling on him before they found his eyes. Mon-El couldn’t do anything but stare at her, savoring the feeling of her hands on his cheeks and her knees brushing his, as she spoke. “What happened?” she asked softly, her voice not demanding, not at all, but worried. It was obvious that she didn’t want to know out of curiosity, but so that she could help him. She could be there for him properly. Her eyes were shining with such…such love and fear that the words left his mouth without his intention.

“I thought I…lost you. _Again_.”

* * *

**_09:17_ **

It took Mon-El a bit of time to completely pull himself together, even with Kara sitting by his side, one hand on his back and the other in his hand, squeezing it for support. It took him some time to find the right words to explain what had happened to him, what he’d been through, because he…he didn’t even know where to start. Yet through all of it Kara sat by his side, caressed his back, planted reassuring kisses on his shoulder, hand, cheek, as if trying to remind him that she was there for him, and she would wait patiently for him until he got himself together.

He could only start talking minutes later. “You died,” he whispered, not being able to find the courage to look at her as he fixed his gaze on his lap. “Kara, you…died. I watched you die.” She didn’t interrupt him, not even when he stopped, seeing that he wasn’t done. He gulped to get rid of the knot in his throat, the hoarseness in his voice, yet it were still trembling as he continued. “It was… It was the Dominator invasion. You were…in that spaceship, and you got…stabbed. With a kryptonite knife. You got stabbed, you fell down and…and you _died_.” His voice started to shake so much by the end that Kara moved her hand to his chin and guided him to look at her. Her eyes were shining with unshed tears as she smiled at him.

“I’m here, Mon-El,” she reminded him once again, dropping her hand on his shoulder and squeezing it. “I’m alive.” She didn’t even question his words or…or what he was saying, only gesturing him to continue, letting him know that she was listening to him, that she was with him. Even if she didn’t believe him, she was with him.

“I’d… I’d lost you,” he continued, forcing the words out, forcing himself to speak. He was glad that Kara had superhearing because he really didn’t think he could talk louder than a whisper. He closed his eyes as he tried to pull himself together before he opened his mouth again. “You were… _dead_ , I’d lost you, and it was… It was horrible, Kara. It was so…painful, it hurt so much that you…you wouldn’t even believe it. It was nothing like anything I’ve experienced before. You were gone forever and I couldn’t take it. I couldn’t move on.” He pressed his lips together tightly. “Until last month.” And with that, as if a tap had opened, the words started flowing out of his mouth. He told Kara everything that happened to him, just as he’d told the Kara in the changed timeline. Every single feeling, every single action, every moment, he told them to her, not holding anything back. Not even when he felt tears started to stream down his cheek, not even when he felt himself dig his nails into his palms again. He didn’t stop. And Kara… She listened to him through it all. She kept holding his hand, she kept rubbing his back, and she listened without judging, without pulling back. She listened until he was done, and even after that she stayed with him, her arm still wrapped around his shoulders, her hand still in his.

“I lost you twice, Kara,” he finished his words, his voice shaking so badly that he was worried he didn’t sound intelligible. “I thought… I thought I lost you twice, and I…I couldn’t handle it.” He could feel it as tears slid down his cheeks at that, yet he didn’t wipe them away, not wanting to let Kara’s hand go.

She didn’t say it for a couple of seconds, her hand on his hair slowing down. Mon-El felt his stomach churn at that. He was afraid to even look at her as he continued. “I know it’s hard to believe, and I’d understand if you don’t believe it, but—“

Kara didn’t let him get far at that before she moved her hand to his cheek and turned his eyes to her. There was a frown on her face.

“Hey, I didn’t say that, Mon-El,” she said softly, her eyes holding his gaze, as if she wanted him to know that he was being honest. He felt his heart skip a beat at that. He pressed his lips together.

“So you…you believe me?” he couldn’t help asking, his voice shaking with surprise and fear. Kara nodded almost incredulously.

“Yes, of course I believe you,” she said without a hint of hesitation in her voice. “Besides the fact that your story sounds way too crazy for you to have just made it up,” she forced out a small laugh at that, “you’re my mate. I know you’d never lie to me, especially about something like that.” Mon-El just stared at her for a couple of seconds, his heartbeats ringing in his ears as he realized… This was happening. This was real. This Kara… It was _his_ Kara. The person he spent five years with. The person he loved with all of his heart. The person that believed in him, even when he didn’t deserve it, and never let that belief budge, no matter what. She was the only one that would believe him in a situation like that. She was the only one that would stay by him through everything, no matter how crazy it sounded.

He felt tears welling up in his eyes all over again, no matter how much he tried to push them away, and shook his head. His Kara believed him, unconditionally; she believed he could be a hero and do the right thing, she believed he was strong, and yet… Yet he’d proved all of them wrong in the previous month. He failed to do the right thing, and if it wasn’t for Kara he wouldn’t have fixed the timeline either. He failed to be a hero in her absence; all he did was punching and taking down criminals, which anyone with superpowers could easily do. And he…he failed _her._ He’d failed to protect her, to save her, twice. He’d promised he’d protect her with his life, and yet…yet he let her die _twice._

He felt Kara’s hands on his cheeks as he shook his head again. “Hey, Mon-El,” she whispered softly, her voice soothing, even though he didn’t deserve it. The apology left his mouth without his intention.

“I’m sorry,” he croaked out as he opened his eyes, looking back at her face. Confusion filled her expression.

“For what?”

“I…” Air got hitched into his throat at the next word. “I failed you,” he confessed as he clenched his fists, feeling his nails puncturing his palms. “I promised I’d protect you, Kara, but I couldn’t. I let you die. Twice. All I wanted was… All I wanted was to make you happy but instead I…killed you.” He tried to look away as shame churned in his stomach but Kara didn’t let him. Her grip on his neck tightened as she grabbed his chin, turning his eyes to her. There was no mistaking the anger and pain flickering in them.

“Hey, don’t say that,” she said, demanded really. “Okay? I don’t want to hear you say that ever again. You _didn’t_ kill me, Mon-El. I know how much you love me, and I know that if there was _anything_ you could’ve done to prevent my death you’d do it. Even if it cost your life. You would do it without blinking.” She arched her brow, as if challenging him to disagree, but there was nothing he could say to that. It was true. If he had been given the opportunity, he would do everything in his power to keep Kara from dying. _Everything._

“And you didn’t fail me. You…You’ve made me happy. You’ve made me _so happy_ you can’t even believe it. I am so lucky to have someone like you as my mate, who goes to enormous lengths to make sure I’m safe, content, happy; who would readily do anything for me; who loves me with everything that he has. I couldn’t have asked for a better mate, even if I knew it would end up in my death. I’d still be with you. I’d still choose you, _always._ Do you understand me?” All Mon-El could do was stare at her, her words echoing in his mind—the same words that the Kara in the changed timeline told him barely a couple of hours ago. He wanted to believe her. He wanted to believe her words with all that he had, yet still doubt was creeping around in his mind. He ducked his chin again, staring at the glyph of House of El on her suit as he continued.

“But I failed you,” he objected. “You believed I was a hero, you believed I was strong enough to do the right thing, but I…I wasn’t. I was willing to let the—the changed timeline stick, Kara, even if it would cause millions of people to die. I was willing to…to sacrifice all of those lives to have you. I was selfish. I was _weak_.”

“No,” Kara argued so quickly, without any hesitation that Mon-El was caught off guard. He blinked as he felt Kara stroke his cheek. “You aren’t weak, Mon-El. Just because you hesitated to do something as hard as this doesn’t make you weak. And… And it isn’t like you let that happen. You stopped Rhea.”

“After you urged me to do so.” He closed his eyes as shame churned in his stomach. “You would’ve done it without hesitation, Kara, but I couldn’t. You are… You are so strong, and I’m…not.”

“Hey,” Kara interjected at that before he could get far. “Open your eyes, Mon-El. Look at me.” She didn’t say anything, and when Mon-El realized she wouldn’t talk until he did what he asked, he opened his eyes. They met with her blue ones, shining with honesty and determination. She shook her head. “You think it would be easy for me to fix time, knowing it meant I’d lose you? Because you’re _crazy_ if you think that. You’re _crazy_ if you think I would’ve been able to let you go easily, or that I wouldn’t have hesitated, even one bit, because I would’ve. I would’ve struggled too.” She pushed a strand of his hair away from his eyes as she smiled, not letting him interject as she continued. “Anyone would. It doesn’t… It doesn’t make you weak, or less of a hero. It means that you _care,_ that you _love,_ and that…that is an amazing quality.” A loving expression filled her face at that, and she rubbed his shoulders. “You’re an amazing person, Mon-El. Don’t you ever doubt that.” Mon-El could feel his heart slamming against his ribs, ready to beat right out of his chest at that. He couldn’t believe… He couldn’t believe how understanding Kara was being about all of this, how she…she stood up for him when he couldn’t do it himself. How she defended him—though he shouldn’t really expect anything different. That was who Kara was. She always defended the ones that she loved, and…and she loved Mon-El. He had no doubt in his mind about that.

He tried to blink his tears away from his eyes when he felt them threatening him again, yet it didn’t work. Kara caught one tear that managed to escape and wiped it away before laughing tearfully. “You know your eyes look more blue than grey when you cry?” she joked, her gaze searching his, and he found himself smiling too. It was a small smile, far from being carefree and weightless, but it was…it was something. At least it was genuine. He reached up at that, cupping Kara’s cheek, savoring the feeling of her skin under his hand when she leaned her head on his hand. He leaned forward to rest his forehead against hers. Another tear slipped down his cheek.

“I need you to promise me something,” he whispered, brushing his hair with the tips of his fingers. Kara didn’t say anything, but even with his eyes closed Mon-El could feel her looking at him. He pushed her hair away from her cheek. “Don’t leave me again.” His voice came out as a plea, as if he needed him to promise her that, he needed to know that she would always be with him. “You have to promise you won’t leave me again,” he continued when she didn’t say anything. For a second Kara stayed silent, at least until she tried to pull back.

“Mon-El…” she croaked, but he didn’t let her get far. He scooted closer to her, their foreheads still touching, as he gripped the nape of her neck tightly.

“No, you have to promise, Kara,” he insisted. “Promise me you’ll stay with me. Always. I…I already lost you twice. I can’t do it again. I won’t…I won’t survive it.” With that he pulled back and opened his eyes, still holding Kara close, and looked at her so that she could see his desperation. “Please,” he pleaded. “Please, just… Promise me.”

Kara didn’t say anything for a couple of seconds, only looking at him with a painful gaze, before nodding. She reached forward and grabbed his hands, opening his fists to hold them.

“Yeah, I promise. I…” She suddenly stopped at that as her eyes dropped to his hands. Mon-El realized that his palms were visible, with the… He hadn’t even realized it as he was crying, or talking, but he’d punctured his palms all over again, so much so that there were blood droplets around the crescent marks. His stomach lurched in his chest as he tried to pull his hands back, hide the wounds, the weakness, but Kara didn’t let him. She was holding his hands way too tightly for him to pull back. “Mon-El, what…” she started as her thumb swept over the nail marks. Mon-El winced, more so at the way Kara was looking at his palms with shock than any physical pain. “What are these?”

“Nothing,” he answered quickly, feeling his fingers curling into a fist again. Yet because of Kara’s fingers he couldn’t do it. “It’s… It’s nothing,” he tried to say again, but his voice trailed off when he met with Kara’s disbelieving gaze. She didn’t believe him, and from the way she was looking at him, he knew she wouldn’t let it go before learning the truth. His shoulders slumped as he felt his strength dissipating. He shut his eyes painfully.

“They…. They helped me cope with your death,” he confessed. “The pain… It helped me focus on something other than…other than your loss, and since I was the—the only one that could hurt myself…” He shook his head fervently and pulled his hands back, and this time Kara was so surprised, so focused on his words that she couldn’t stop him. “I’m—I’m sorry. I’ll take care of them. I won’t… I won’t do it again,” he stammered as he looked at his palms, and then turned his hands to hide the wounds.

At least until Kara scooted closer to him, reached for his hands and turned them around, revealing the nail marks again. She squeezed his hands tightly, as if to remind him that she was with him, that she would be with him.

“Don’t apologize, Mon-El,” she said, shaking her head and reaching up with one hand to stroke his cheek. “You don’t have to apologize to me, or hide anything from me. We’re… We’re a team, right? And as a team, we’ll take care of this together. You’re not alone in this.” She flashed him a smile at that, ducking her chin to catch his eyes. “You will _never_ be alone anymore.” She traced Mon-El’s wounds again, almost…almost _lovingly,_ as if she didn’t care about them, as if they didn’t bother her at all. Tears welled up in his eyes again at that as she once again had proved that…that she loved him. That she was there with him, _all_ of him, with his good sides and bad sides, weaknesses and strengths, joys and griefs… She would always be with him through all of that. Emotions clogged his throat as he could do nothing but nod, feeling so, so grateful, not even wanting to question how this had happened and how she was alive. He was just glad that she was, because he…he couldn’t go through it alone. He needed help, and there was…there was nothing wrong with that, as long as he was strong enough to ask for that help. And… And she must’ve seen that in his eyes, because she reached forward and wrapped an arm around him, pulling him close and letting him rest his head on her shoulder.

“Come here,” she whispered as she leaned her cheek against his head and rubbed his arm, his back, his shoulder, caressed his cheek and hair, and let him cry silently. Even as his tears wetted her suit. Even as his chest shook so much that he could feel her trembling too. Even as he gripped her hand so tightly that he was sure she must be hurting. She didn’t complain; instead she focused on him, whispering soothing words to his ear, pressing kisses on his hair until he calmed down enough. Only then she pulled back, yet her hands still stayed on his cheeks as she wiped his tears away. She flashed him a smile.

“I’ll be right back, okay?” she told him before she pulled back, stood up and turned around.

Mon-El felt his stomach lurch at that as his hand shot forward. “Wait.” His fingers wrapped around her wrist to stop her before he could help himself. No, she couldn’t leave. He couldn’t let her leave. What if… What if it all turned out to be a dream if he let her out of his sight? What if he was…imagining all of this, what is this was all something his brain made up to help him cope with her loss? He couldn’t take it. He’d… He’d die if that happened to be the case. It would kill him.

Kara turned to him quizzically at that, her eyes searching his face. He cleared his throat to get rid of the knot in there, feeling a blush creeping up his cheeks. He knew he was being ridiculous, a part of him knew he couldn’t have just made up all this stuff, yet still… He couldn’t help himself. Not when it came to Kara. Not when it came to losing her. “Don’t… Don’t leave me. Please,” he begged, looking at her eyes, hoping she could see his desperation. Something cracked in their blue as she stared at him, and as if it was a last minute decision she knelt down in front of him, her hands on his knees. She made sure he was focused on her before she spoke.

“I’m just gonna get my phone, call in sick from work, and let Alex know we’ll be home for the day, okay?” she whispered, squeezing his knee. “So that we can be together. And then I’ll be right back. I’m not leaving you. Ever.” She seemed so determined as she promised that, as if she would do _everything_ she could to make that happen. And… And Mon-El believed her. He chose to believe her, because it was… It was far better than the alternative. Than to think she might…

His thoughts scattered when Kara cradled his face in her hands and reached up, pressing a small, comforting kiss on his forehead. His eyes fluttered close at that, savoring the feeling, at least until he felt her leave.

He didn’t open his eyes until he heard her return, afraid that if he did he’d see that she was gone. And yet, whether it was seconds or minutes later he felt two hands wrap a blanket around his shoulders as she sat beside him. He opened his eyes to look at her, only to see her smile as she rubbed his back.

“Come. Let’s lay down for a while.” She propped up a pillow on one corner of the couch before lying on it, and then pulled him to her chest, letting him rest his head there as he curled next to her. The couch was way too small for both of them to be comfortable, and yet, as Kara guided his arm around her waist and let his hand rest there, he couldn’t help thinking he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else at that moment. He wouldn’t want to be anywhere but lying down here with Kara by his side, stroking his hair while putting occasional kisses there, rubbing his shoulder, caressing his arm, with every move letting him know that she was with him. He could hear her heartbeat ringing in his ears as he shut his eyes, tightening his grip around her waist. Another indication that she was alive and there.

“I can hear your heartbeat.”

He hadn’t even realized he said it out loud until he heard Kara’s light, tearful laugh and felt her kiss his head again. She hugged him tighter as she grabbed his hand and put it over her heart, allowing him to feel its beats.

“Always,” she promised him.

Mon-El didn’t know how long they just laid there, in silence, listening to each others breathing and heartbeats, but neither he nor Kara attempted to stand up or complain. He didn’t have anything to complain about anyway, not when… He had her back. _He had her back,_ and that was all that mattered. At least until Kara broke the silence.

“I was right,” she mused, playing with the strands of his hair. Mon-El frowned at that as he shifted his head to look up, only to see her smile down at him.

“About what?” he couldn’t help asking. Kara just shrugged at that nonchalantly as if it wasn’t a big deal.

“I told you that you becoming a hero wasn’t just about me,” she continued, her fingers running through his hair absentmindedly. “That you would’ve become one with or without my help as long as you were given the chance. I was right.” Mon-El froze at that for a couple of seconds, unable to come up with an answer, before he shook his head.

“That’s…” he said, trying to gather up his thoughts. “Kara, without you, I don’t think…”

“You did,” Kara countered without letting him get far. “You became a hero.” She put her hand on his heart. “I’ve told you multiple times that you were already one inside. You just needed a little push for that person to shine through, whether it was me or someone else. And…” she added as an afterthought, reaching up to cup his cheek. “You also said you couldn’t keep on being a hero if you lost me. You wouldn’t be able to do it. But you did. Even in my absence you continued being a hero, just like I said you would.” Mon-El’s shoulders slumped at that as he shook his head, gripping Kara’s waist tightly.

“I didn’t,” he argued, which was… As ashamed as he was of it, was right. He presses his lips together and tried to get rid of the guilt churning in his stomach. “Not at first. I…I drank myself to stupor every single day, Kara. It took… It took me some time to recover.” He expected Kara to be disappointed at that, yet all she did was smile softly at him as she squeezed his shoulder.

“That’s natural, Mon-El,” she countered, without a hint of hesitation in her voice. “You were grieving. You were in pain. Nobody could expect you to hold it together and just go on with your life like nothing had happened. But, in the end, you still stepped up and continued protecting National City.” She tightened her grip on her hand, offering him her support. “I’m proud of you.”

Mon-El didn’t know if it was the words, or it was the way Kara said them with unconditional honesty and love, but he felt his heart flutter at that. Because deep down… Deep down that was all he ever wanted. For Kara to be proud of him. For her to love him. Anything else… Anything else he could bear as long as she was by his side.

“Thank you,” he whispered hoarsely at that, a small smile pulling his lips. Kara nodded at that, mirroring his smile, before she guided his head back on her shoulder. Mon-El caressed her arm before he held her hand and pulled it close, his thumb stroking her finger, before he noticed the ring. He froze at that.

_Oh no. Please let that not be true._

He cleared his throat as he kept staring at the ring on Kara’s finger. “Um… Kara?” Her hand on her hair stilled at that briefly.

“Hm?” she hummed as an answer, her fingers massaging his scalp gently. Mon-El savored the feeling right before his thumb swept over her ring.

“I know I just missed about a year of our lives, but… Please tell me we aren’t married yet.” He looked at her through his lashes. “Please tell me I didn’t miss our wedding.” A laugh burst out of Kara’s lips at that as she shook her head. Pushing his hair back she leaned down and pressed a kiss on his forehead.

“No, don’t worry. Still engaged. The wedding’s in two months.” Relief washed over Mon-El at that as he leaned back on Kara’s chest. “Besides,” Kara continued as she absentmindedly rubbed his shoulder, “if that had been the case, we would’ve done it all over again.” He could feel her smile as she rested her cheek on his head. “As long as we’re together, right?”

Mon-El found himself nodding at that, despite the question of how this had happened and how Kara was alive was still circling in his mind. Yet, at that second, he decided he didn’t care. He could investigate that later. Right now… Right now all that mattered was that she was alive, she was with him, and…that was it. Everything else came later.

“Yeah,” he mumbled as he snuggled up to her, resting his forehead against the crook of her neck. “As long as we’re together.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo I guess this is a happy ending after all? I know it seemed like it would be impossible at some point, but trust me, it was in my original plan to make this a happy ending, and with some help from my friend we figured out a way to do it. And I was gonna reveal it in this chapter, but I just wanted it to be full of Karamel without any plot point coming in the way, soooo that's gonna be in the next chapter. I'm glad I did it that way too, because oh Rao I just love this chapter so much. 
> 
> That said, with this chapter finished, there's only one chapter left to post, and oh Rao I really don't know how to feel about that. I don't want to get emotional here, but I already feel tears creeping in my eyes, so I'm gonna stop now lol. I can get emotional in the next chapter :) But still, I wanna thank all of you for joining this journey with me. encouraging me with your comments and thoughts, and staying with the story even when it got a bit too angsty (lol). I'll do a more proper thank you in the next chapter, but still, I wanted you to know :) Love you all!!!


	26. Forever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all!
> 
> Sorry for the late update, life just has been a bit crazy lately. But......it's here. The last chapter. The very last chapter. And oh my God, I already feel emotional, and considering that I'm also tired as hell, it is NOT a good combination. I wouldn't be surprised if I started crying in the middle of the library.
> 
> But anyway, that said, I really wanna thank all of you for all your kudoses, comments, and support for this story. This had been such a big part of my life that I really don't know how I feel about letting it go, and it would've never become what it is now without you, the readers. Your motivation, enthusiasm, tears (lol I feel like a sadist sometimes for that), and devotion to this story was more than I can ask for, which was probably one reason I felt so emotional writing that last word. 
> 
> However, I do have a lot of multichapter AU ideas that I'm currently thinking about after this (I've even written about 12 chapters in one of them), so I guess it's not ALL bad. I'll still have some other stories to busy myself with. ;)
> 
> Anyway, for the last time, thank you, I love you, and I hope you enjoy this chapter :)

**19 th of April, 2022**

**_15:28_ **

Mon-El woke up from an uncomfortable slumber slowly, as if his body was fighting for him to sleep, but his mind wasn’t letting him, urging him to wake up. He didn’t even remember exactly why it was uncomfortable. He remembered… He remembered seeing a nightmare sometime during the sleep, but that was it. And since he didn’t remember what the nightmare was about, he must’ve been really tired when he dozed off next to Kara on the couch—

_Kara_.

His heart rate picked up at that with fear filling his lungs. Kara had been there. She’d been alive. He remembered it, he remembered her hugging him, stroking his hair, wiping his tears away, kissing his hair… She was alive…when she shouldn’t have been. He’d changed the timeline—he’d stopped Rhea from causing Alex’s car accident and… He’d reversed the timeline to its original version. But somehow— _somehow—_ Kara had come back, she hadn’t died…

Or was it all just a dream? Hallucination?

No. _No,_ that couldn’t be it. It had to be real. He couldn’t… He couldn’t take it if he found out she was dead, not again, not after everything that happened. He was already barely holding on, if she turned out to be—

His racing thoughts stopped when he felt a hand gently cupping his cheek, fingers brushing his hair. Even though his eyes weren’t open…that touch was enough to tell him what he needed to know. He could feel the touch, which could only happen if the hand belonged to a certain someone. He felt his body relax.

_Kara._

His eyes flickered open afterwards, still a part of him afraid of what he might see…yet he found himself face to face with her. She was lying down in front of him, only a couple of inches between them, with her hair cascading around her shoulders and her lips pulled into a small smile. Even in the dim light of the bedroom he could clearly see how brightly her eyes were shining. But… But most importantly…she was there. She wasn’t dead.

“Hey,” Kara said softly as her smile widened, swiping her thumb over his cheekbone to wipe away a tear that he didn’t even know was sliding down his cheek. “I’m here,” she reminded him, as if she knew he needed it before he even said a word about it, and dropped her hand on his shoulder. “I’m with you.”

All Mon-El could do was nod at that, emotions clogging his throat, as he shut his eyes in an attempt to stop his tears before he scooted closer to her. She immediately wrapped an arm around his shoulders to pull him close, letting him bury his face to the crook of her neck. It felt…it felt so good, to be in her arms, to _feel_ her arms around him, indicating that she was very much alive and very much there, that he couldn’t help it as he put his hand on her waist and squeezed it. He hadn’t even realized how much he needed… _this,_ not until Kara took him in her arms without question, just knowing that he was feeling down, and offered him her unconditional support. He’d missed this. He’d missed this…relationship. Yes, the Kara in the changed timeline… He didn’t doubt she loved him too, but this Kara… She’d gotten the chance to learn everything about him for five years. Compared to that…a couple of weeks was just too short.

“Baby…” Kara whispered to his hair, running her fingers through it softly before she pressed a kiss there. She rubbed his back when she felt him shudder in her arms. “I’m here. I’m with you. You’re not alone.” She repeated those words over and over again, until he stopped shaking, until he managed to stop his tears, until she knew he believed them. Only then she pulled back, yet still she didn’t let him get too far away. Her one hand was resting on his shoulder while the other was on his chest.

At that moment, Mon-El couldn’t help thinking he’d never felt so grateful to someone. This was… This was more than he could’ve asked for in life. This was… _everything._ His everything. Once, before losing her, he hadn’t realized that, but now that he knew what life without her was like… It was nothing without her. Life was nothing without her.

Yet all of those thoughts scattered away from his mind when he blinked and finally managed to focus on Kara…only to see that her eyes were tinted red. If it was someone else in his place they could’ve missed it; Kara never made it too obvious that she…cried, but he’d known her for years. Just like she always knew what he needed without him needing to say that, he always knew when she was sad, angry, heartbroken, or crying. And right now…she’d _cried_.

“You cried.” The words left his mouth without his intention as he lifted his hand and stroked his cheek, guilt churning in his stomach. He pressed his lips together. If he had caused this…

Kara shook her head immediately at that, tightening her grip on the nape of his neck, and tried to smile at him. “It’s… It’s nothing,” she said, but the smile… It hadn’t reached her eyes. And even if it had, it didn’t change the fact that she’d cried, or it didn’t mean that seeing her like that didn’t break Mon-El’s heart. He shook his head and pressed his lips together.

“No, Kara…” he croaked, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. “It’s not… It’s not nothing.” He trained his eyes on her, making sure she was focused on him too before he spoke, trying to ignore the coiling in his stomach. “Talk to me,” he whispered softly, not in a demanding way but…in a way that reminded her that she could tell him everything. That he was there for her, always, just as she’d been there for him the previous day.

Kara hesitated at first, conflict flickering in her eyes, before she gave up. Her shoulders slumped as she turned her eyes to the space between her and Mon-El, right where his hand was, and dropped her hand to hold it. She laced their fingers together before she started explaining.

“I was afraid,” she admitted, biting her lip. Tears had welled up in her eyes again, tears that caused Mon-El’s chest to squeeze, as she continued. “You looked… You looked so sad yesterday, so in pain, and I felt… I felt desperate. I didn’t know how to help you, how to make this better, and it scared me.” Mon-El had started to frown by the time she was finished, her eyes still avoiding his gaze. Her words… It didn’t make any sense. How could she… How could she think that she wasn’t helping? If it hadn’t been for her… He would’ve broken down completely. She was holding him together, making him…making him feel alive. Granted, the cracks and scars left from her death still lingered in him, but at least…at least now he was one piece. Maybe all those small pieces weren’t put together perfectly, but at least they were put together.

He reached for her chin to lift her eyes, making sure she was looking at him before he started speaking. “Kara, you’re helping,” he countered, hoping she could see the honesty shining in his eyes. “You just being there for me would help, but…but you do more than that. You offer me your support, you hug me, you wipe my tears away, you remind me that you’re with me and that… You have no idea how much that means to me. You have no idea…” Air got hitched in his throat at that. “You have no idea how good it is to have you back.” He watched Kara’s face, searching her eyes, hoping for a smile…yet all he got was tears welling up in her eyes again. His stomach dropped. “Hey,” he said softly as he wiped away a tear that escaped his eyes, “did I say something wrong?”

“No,” Kara quickly said and shook her head with a hoarse laugh. She cupped the nape of his neck. “No, these are…these are happy tears. You…” She pressed her lips together. “How do you always manage to say all the right things?” At that Mon-El couldn’t help it as a smile pulled his lips, a smile that reached his eyes, and the way Kara’s eyes started shining with happiness as well… It was worth it. This, having her right now… It was worth everything he’d been through.

Yet that was when the question that was bothering him ever since he found out Kara was alive came back. He’d… He’d put it off before, not wanting to spoil or destroy the moment and just wanted to enjoy being with Kara, but… He needed to know. He knitted his brows as he tried to gather up his thoughts, feeling his smile dissipate.

“You’re alive,” he said slowly, deliberately, yet still he couldn’t stop the shakiness in his voice. Kara nodded with a small smile, yet she didn’t say anything, as if she felt he had more to say.

He had to force the next words out of his mouth. “But I… I set the timeline back to its original version. In which… In which you…” He couldn’t say the word as his stomach coiled with disgust. Kara squeezed his hand at that, offering him her support and urging him to continue. Gratitude filled his eyes as he squeezed his hand back. “How…did that happen?” he couldn’t help asking. “I mean, I’m… I’m so glad that you’re alive, don’t get me wrong, but…how?”

Kara seemed to understand his question as a small laugh left her lips. She absentmindedly drew a circle on the back of his hand with her thumb. “I would’ve probably died,” she started, making Mon-El shudder. That was… That was something he never even wanted to think about again. “If you hadn’t come to me at the right time and saved me. You…came into the spaceship and stopped the Dominators before they could stab me, and got me out of there.” _That_ made Mon-El freeze. He’d… He’d gone to Kara’s spaceship? But that…that shouldn’t have happened. That wasn’t the plan. Why would he…

Kara must’ve seen the confusion in his eyes, because she smiled softly and continued. “I know, I was surprised to see you there too, since… You know, it went against the plan. But after everything was over…” She knitted his brows, as if she was trying to think of something. “You told me that four years ago, a woman…with pink hair, I think…came to you and told you that on that day there would be an alien invasion, in which I would die, if you didn’t go against the plan and came to save me. That it was… It was a gift for your sacrifice, and someday you’d understand.” Kara looked up at that, her hand rubbing his shoulder, and searched his eyes. “Does… Does that make any sense to you?”

Mon-El couldn’t even answer her question as he stared at her, frozen, his mind racing. Pink haired woman…told him that… _Sara._ She had… She had gone back in time to warn him about…Kara’s death? But didn’t that… Didn’t that mess up the timeline? She was…supposed to die. Why would Sara do that, risk the timeline to give him…

Something suddenly came to his mind, something he hadn’t even paid attention to before. He remembered how tense Ray was, continuously eyeing Sara, during his and Kara’s conversation with the Time Masters. And he…he remembered what Ray said: _The shuttles are ready._ Shuttles. As in… As in plural. Which meant…Sara had planned it. She’d planned going back and warning him, even before he fixed time. She…

_A gift for your sacrifice…_

She’d really done it. And… And as Mon-El looked at Kara, he realized that Sara would never attempt something like that if she thought it could mess up time. Which meant this time… This time Kara being alive wouldn’t cause consequences. Sara must’ve checked it. She must’ve checked it, and when she realized it was okay…

She really had done it…for him. She’d done it.

He felt so grateful suddenly at that as he looked at Kara. “Yeah,” he whispered, happiness flickering in his chest as now…he realized that this timeline was truly real. It wouldn’t go away. He had Kara back. He had Kara back, permanently. “Yes, that makes sense. That…” He couldn’t even continue as he leaned forward, pressing his lips on Kara’s, not in a demanding way but…but not softly either. He wanted to taste her. He needed to taste her, to remind himself that she was there, she was with him, and she would be with him. He cupped her cheek as he felt her parting her lips, kissing him back.

He only pulled back when he was short of breath, and he didn’t get far away even then, just resting his forehead against his. Tears were filling his eyes yet again, even though they were closed, but this time… This time they were truly happy tears. Because… Because it was a miracle, having Kara back, and it was something…something that he’d savor, protect, keep close with everything that he had. Something he’d never let go of.

At least that was all he could think about as he laid on his back and pulled Kara to his chest, letting her rest her head over his shoulder as he stroked her hair. He glanced at the ceiling. _Thank you, Sara,_ he thought inside hoping she knew…she knew what she’d given back to him, and how much it meant. How happy it made him. He hoped that she could find her happiness too, whatever had happened, because after what she did…

She deserved it.

* * *

**14 th of June, 2022**

**_18:35_ **

Mon-El fidgeted with his tie nervously as he looked at himself in the mirror, tightening and loosening it up for a couple of times, trying to decide which way looked better. Yet it seemed like whatever he did with it, it just didn’t look good enough. It was either not symmetrical, too wrinkled, too tight, too lose, too…something. He was worried it would never look good enough.

Or it was his nerves getting to him. Yeah, it was probably his nerves getting to him, because if he thought objectively—if he _could_ think objectively—he didn’t actually look that bad. With his black suit, red tie, and white shirt underneath, it was a perfect look for a wedding.

Yet that was the part that worried him. It wasn’t just _a_ wedding. It was _the_ wedding. Their wedding. Kara and his. They were getting married. And that was… That wasn’t something he could take lightly. So being _perfect_ wasn’t enough, he needed to be _perfectly_ perfect, 100%, without any glitches or imperfections or flaws. He needed this day to be perfect. He’d looked forward to this for years, even when she was dead. This was… This was all he could think about that. Not the wedding specifically, per se, but a life with her. A future with her. A family… And now, they were taking the first step towards that goal, and he…he couldn’t be happier.

Well, happier and more freaked out, truthfully.

Sighing exasperatedly he let go of his tie, worried he’d mess it up even more, and scratches his cheek. He looked over at himself in the mirror once more, and…he looked good. He could admit that. But did he look good enough?

Fortunately, before he could start pondering on that, or start fiddling with another part of his outfit, someone knocked on the door. He turned to the door, only to see Winn there, smiling so bright, as if he was the one getting married and not Mon-El.

“Hey!” he chirped as he walked in and shut the door behind him. “Who’s my favorite groom?” Mon-El didn’t even attempt to hide his nervousness as he stared at himself in the mirror. He took a deep breath.

“I’m freaking out,” he admitted, turning to Winn. He was pretty sure his eyes were wide as Winn’s steps halted, a frown appearing on his face. Mon-El pressed his lips together. “Winn, what if…what if something goes wrong? What if I can’t say my vows? What if I can’t hear the officiant—J’onn? What if it isn’t…it isn’t perfect? I—“

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Winn interrupted him before he could get ahead of himself, stepping forward and putting his hands on the Daxamite’s shoulders. “Slow down there. Everything will be fine, trust me, okay? You’ve been preparing for this for two months. It will be perfect.” He arched his brows, as if waiting for Mon-El to agree. Yet all Mon-El could do was turn his eyes to the floor, anxiety churning in his stomach. He cleared his throat.

“I want this to be perfect,” he said as he lifted his head. “Kara deserves that, a perfect wedding, and besides…after thinking that I lost her—“

“Hey,” Winn warned him at that, pointing his index finger at him. “No sad thoughts, remember? This is a happy day! You should be… You should be happy, and smiling, laughing… Come on, Mon-El, people are gonna think you’re going to a funeral, not _your_ wedding.” That earned him a glare from the Daxamite, even as he raised his hands apologetically. “I’m just saying.”

“I’m happy,” Mon-El argued, but Winn just shot him a disbelieving look.

“Well, you don’t look like it.”

“I _am_.” And he was. He was so, so happy, and that was…that was what worried him. It maybe didn’t make sense, but…but the last time he was happy, the last time he thought he finally had happiness…it was ripped away from him. He was worried the same thing would happen now too. He never… He never got _that_ lucky. “I’m just nervous,” he tried to play it off, but something in his eyes must’ve told Winn that it wasn’t that simple. The man sighed as he stepped forward, grabbing Mon-El’s arm and looking at him intently.

“Mon-El, you won’t lose that happiness,” he reminded him. “Okay? Kara loves you. Whatever happens at the wedding, she won’t stop loving you, and she won’t leave you. You guys are… You guys are like the perfect power couple, who are so sickeningly in love with each other that everyone is jealous of you.” Despite his strained nerves, Mon-El couldn’t help chuckling at that, which made Winn smile too. “If there is anyone who can make it, it’s you two.” He lifted his brows, as if challenging Mon-El to disagree. He could only nod at that with a sigh as excitement started buzzing inside him again, once the anxiety was pushed to the back. He gulped and looked at Winn.

“You’re right, you’re right. Of course you are.” He took a deep breath and smiled. “Everything will be okay.”

“Yeah,” Winn said with a smile, spreading his arms. “That’s the spirit. Now come on, the wedding is about to start, and we need to take our places.” He turned around and opened the door for Mon-El, gesturing him to go ahead. And after taking another deep breath, after reminding himself that he would never let anything ruin his relationship with Kara, he went through the door, walking out to the beach, to the sun shining down on the wedding arrangements. After a long discussion, he and Kara decided that the best wedding place for them would be a beach, since they wanted a small wedding with just their close circle of friends—the ones that knew their superhero identities—so that…so that they could be themselves when they said their vows. So that they didn’t have to pretend to be someone they weren’t. And besides, even though both of them weren’t that religious, Kara wanted to marry under the sun, or Rao, the god of the Kryptonians, and Mon-El was all too glad to give her that. So a beach wedding it was, non-religious and relatively small. _Relatively,_ because it turned out that Winn had called all their friends from Earth-1, so the number of guests had gone up considerably. Other than that it was just Winn, James, Clark and Lois, a couple of agents from the DEO that they were close to, Lena Luthor, and Cat Grant.

Not that Mon-El had any complaints about that. Small or big, at the end, what mattered was that he and Kara was getting married. _Marriage,_ and then…and then they would have the future they always wanted. A family. And he…he literally couldn’t wait for that.

Those were the thoughts circling in his head as he stood on the altar, his heart slamming against his ribs, his eyes trained to the spot where Kara and Clark would be coming from shortly. He was so focused on her that he could barely hear the chatter going on around the place. Winn was standing right behind him as his best man, and Alex stood on the spot next to where Kara would come shortly, with J’onn on Mon-El’s other side as the officiant. It was Kara who asked J’onn for that, as not only a fellow alien but a father figure for her, someone who took care of her for years. And of course the Martian had accepted the offer proudly.

Yet all of those thoughts scattered, and the chatter he was already barely hearing died off the moment music filled the air, and then…and then the door opened, revealing Clark and Kara, arm in arm. And Mon-El hadn’t felt this grateful for his supervision until then, because even though Kara was too far away from him for an human eye to clearly see her, he could see every detail, and…

She looked breathtaking.

He’d recently found out that the groom wasn’t allowed to see the bride before the wedding, in case it might bring bad luck and all, so he had no idea how her hair, her dress, even her make up looked like, but… It was perfect. It wasn’t just perfect, it was…it was _perfectly_ perfect. She was wearing a strapless white dress with a simple bodice, but the skirt… It seemed like it was layers upon layers of sheer fabric, resembling the dress from that live action Cinderella movie he remembered from a couple of years ago. It was flowing around her, rippling with the light breeze, giving an air of a mixture of Disney princess and an elegant queen. Her hair was pulled to the back from the top, the veil falling down her back, but some strands were left to fall down on her shoulders in light, golden curls, shining so brightly under the rays of sun that he couldn’t believe it. Her makeup was kept really simple, with only a pink lip-gloss, pink blush, and what seemed like silver glitter around the eyes, but that was it. And somehow Mon-El liked it better, because despite all that beauty, all that grace, glitter, elegance, embellishments… She was still her. This was still Kara, the woman he loved with all of his heart, smiling brightly at him as she and Clark walked down the aisle slowly. Mon-El could see from the corner of his eyes that Clark was waving at the guests whenever he caught their eyes, but Kara and him… They were just looking at each other. He wasn’t even sure he was breathing as she stopped in front of him, looking at her comet-like eyes before Clark took her attention.

“I hope you’ll have everything you’ll want,” he whispered, cupping Kara’s cheeks. All Mon-El could do was watch as a smile pulled her lips and she nodded.

“I already have it,” she said, her eyes flickering to Mon-El, making his heart skip a beat as Clark leaned forward and kissed Kara’s forehead. He then turned around to face Mon-El, his hand still on Kara’s shoulder, his eyes looking at the Daxamite intently.

“Take good care of my cousin,” he almost ordered, which earned a short glare from Kara. Yet still… There was a glint of joy in Clark’s eyes that said that he trusted the Daxamite. Mon-El just gulped and nodded, not being able to find his voice, before his eyes turned to Kara. He extended his hand to her and pulled her up the altar so that they were in front of each other, face to face, and once again…once again he couldn’t help thinking how beautiful she was. How stunning and breathtaking, just like she always have been. She beamed at him as she squeezed his hands.

“You look beautiful,” Mon-El couldn’t help whispering, earning a small, silent chuckle from Kara as her eyes traveled on him.

“Well, you’re not so bad yourself,” she said with a mischievous smile and a shrug, and at that moment…at that moment Mon-El felt himself relax. Because he knew, with Kara next to him… He could bear through everything.

They turned to J’onn when he started speaking. “Welcome, family, friends, and loved ones. We gather here today to celebrate the wedding of Kara Zor-El and Mon-El.” He flashed both of them a smile at that. “I believe you wrote your own vows.” Mon-El gulped at that and nodded, seeing Kara do the same, though she looked certainly calmer. He would’ve even thought she wasn’t nervous at all if he couldn’t hear how fast her heart was beating.

J’onn gestured them to go ahead at that. A smile pulled Kara’s lips as she squeezed Mon-El’s hands. He waited for her to grab a paper or something—as far as he saw on the movies and all, people didn’t usually memorize their vows—but she just squeezed his hands before she started.

“Well, let’s hope I don’t mess this up and forget everything I worked so hard to memorize,” she joked, earning a low chuckle from everyone but Mon-El, who couldn’t even take his eyes off of her, his heart about to beat right out of his chest. “Mon-El,” she continued with an almost breathless voice. “I know we haven’t had the easiest way finding each other. It was a lot of bumps and holes, a lot of ups and downs throughout the relationship. We had our happiness and our fights, our sadness and joys, our laughs and cries, but…through it all I was sure of one thing: That I’d found someone who’d always be there for me, no matter what. Who’d support me, encourage me, push me the best version of myself every single day. Who would try his hardest to make me happy. Who loves me, with everything that he has.” She smiled at him as she reached up and swiped her finger over his cheek, wiping away a tear before he even realized that he’d started crying. He tried to pull himself together as she continued. “You gave me something I never thought I could find on earth: A sense of normalcy, a piece of my home world, love, and…and true happiness. It’s thanks to you I have everything I want right now, and I don’t ever want to let go of that, no matter how long I live.” Her hand dropped on his shoulder, squeezing it, encouraging him, offering him her support. That was then he realized it was his turn.

His smile felt shaky on his lips because of his thundering heart. “You just raised the expectations,” he whispered softly, too quiet for anyone but her to hear. “How am I ever gonna reach that?” Kara chuckled at that and tightened her grip on his hands, as if telling him that trying was enough. He cleared his throat before he continued, racking his brain to find the words he’d spent weeks to memorize. “Kara Zor-El,” he started, his voice still trembling, as he reached up, stroking a strand of her hair softly. “I haven’t had the best childhood, or the best adulthood in that case. I’ve never really loved my life, myself, before I crashed on earth and met you.” He pressed his lips together to keep his tears at bay. “You not only gave me a chance to be whoever I wanted to be, you made me better, you helped me become someone that I can be proud of. You showed me what it was like to be truly loved by someone, without conditions, without expectations. You’ve made me happier than anyone has made me in life, and for that reason I’m the luckiest man on earth to have found you.” He turned his gaze to their hands, with their fingers laced together, and tried to pull himself together. “I was forced to see what life was like without you, and I can say right now, after everything I’ve been through, that it was nothing worth living.” Pain flickered in Kara’s eyes at that as she offered him a supportive smile. He mirrored it. “That is something I never want to experience again,” he admitted honestly. “So, Kara Zor-El, I promise you that as long as I live, I will spend every year, month, day by your side, and I won’t let anything get into our way. Again.” That earned a light chuckle with Kara as she nodded, squeezing his hand.

“Good,” she whispered holding his gaze for one second, before both of them turned to J’onn. He had a small smile on his face—and for his standards that was a big one. He turned to Kara.

“Do you, Kara, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?” Kara’s eyes were shining as she turned to Mon-El, almost as brightly as the sun. She nodded.

“I do.” There was a short applause at that, which made Kara chuckle, while all Mon-El could do was stare at her, amazed and happy to hear…to hear the words he’d always wanted to hear from her. It took him a couple of moments to pull himself together as J’onn turned to him.

“Do you, Mon-El, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?” A smile pulled his lips, and despite his knotted throat the words left his mouth so easily.

“I do.”

This time the applause was louder as Kara laughed, her eyes shining with happy tears as she squeezed Mon-El’s hands. She looked so beautiful, so happy, so carefree that he couldn’t even believe it for a moment, he couldn’t believe this was happening, he couldn’t believe he was the one making her this happy. But… But it was happening. This was real, and he…he felt so happy that his chest swelled with pure joy. He felt like he could almost float in air. It was a good thing he had good control of his powers, or else that might’ve actually happened.

“May I have the rings, please?” J’onn said after that. Winn’s attention perked up at that as he nodded.

“Oh, right.” He reached inside his pockets with shaky hands as he blinked several times and took out two golden bands. They were simple yet elegant, beautiful, symbolizing Kara and Mon-El’s love for each other. He put the rings on the cushion Alex provided. Mon-El took Kara’s ring, trying to keep his fingers from trembling as Alex flashed him a smile. He took his courage from that and took his bride’s hand in his. The smile that had been plastered on Kara’s face since the beginning on the ceremony still hadn’t faltered, and she was still looking at him with the same love and happiness. A joyous smile pulled his lips too.

“I give you this ring, as a daily reminder of my love for you,” he whispered as he slid the ring on her finger—at his third try, because as it turned out that it was a little hard to do that with shaky hands. Yet still Kara’s smile didn’t even falter at that. She squeezed his hand briefly, and once she managed to tear her eyes away from her ring she gently took Mon-El’s. He hoped he didn’t look too enthusiastic as he let her take his hand and put on the ring.

“I give you this ring, as a daily reminder of my love for you,” she repeated in a hoarse voice, as if it was hard for her to speak because of her emotions. There was another applause, Mon-El assumed, yet he could barely hear it as he stared at Kara.

“I love you.” The words left his mouth before he could stop them, and he reached up, taking her face in his hands. His girlfriend, his fiancée, and now…his wife. His mate. Now and forever. He truly couldn’t have asked for anything better from life.

“I love you,” Kara said, taking him out of his thoughts as her eyes searched his face. They didn’t even wait J’onn to finish his sentence before they both leaned forward, pressing their lips on each other’s.

“You may kiss no—well, it seems you already got that covered.” Mon-El assumed people must be clapping, cheering, applauding, yet he didn’t hear any of that as he closed his eyes and let himself go, losing himself in Kara. He couldn’t pay attention to anything else but her, not even when he pulled back and smiled, not even when he took her hand and led her to their first dance as husband and wife; he’d barely heard even the song that was playing— _Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic_ —which he and Kara chose carefully. His eyes were on Kara all the time, on her smile, on her laugh, the way her eyes shone… _her._ And as he held her in his arms, as he spun her around, as he laced their fingers together and guided her other hand to his shoulder…

He didn’t care that the whole world disappeared around them, because at that moment, they were married, they were happy, and that was all that mattered.

* * *

**_21:07_ **

Mon-El knew the wedding was going on behind him, people still dancing, chattering, laughing, drinks being shared… Yet that was the last thing in his mind as he stood by the shore with Kara, their shoes taken off and dropped off…somewhere, his arms winded around her waist as they watched the light of the moon playing on the sea. The wedding was beautiful, incredible, awe-and-some, perfectly perfect, with people wishing them a happy life, congratulating them, pulling them into numerous dances… Yet it had also been tiring. So enjoying this moment with Kara right now, having her rest the back of her head on his chest and hands on his arms… It was all he could ask for. Just being with her, having a quiet moment with her, without any interruptions…

“Thank you,” Kara mumbled after some time, taking him out of his thoughts. Mon-El frowned at that as he looked down at her, only to see that her eyes were still closed. Still, there was a smile playing on her lips. He found himself smiling too.

“For what?” he couldn’t help asking. Kara almost chuckled at that. This time she lifted her head and turned around to face him.

“For giving me a wedding more beautiful than I could ever ask for,” she answered, her finger drawing lazy circles on his arm over his jacket. “It was… It was the best night of my life.” Hearing those words stirred something inside Mon-El as he nodded, pressing a kiss on her forehead.

“Yeah,” he admitted, “mine too. But… I think I should be the one thanking you.” With that Kara’s eyes fluttered open with confusion. He shrugged nonchalantly. “You were the one that accepted to marry me after all.” She laughed at that, happiness flickering in her eyes, and squeezed his hand reassuringly. She’d just opened her mouth, ready to say something, when they were interrupted by someone clearing their throat from their right. They both turned there immediately.

Only to come face to face with Sara. But… But not the Earth-1 Sara, who was in the wedding area, currently gushing with Alex and Maggie about some girl she met in 13th century in her golden knew-length dress. This was Earth-38 Sara, with her pink hair pulled into a ponytail and her fighting gear on her, completed with a leather jacket Mon-El hadn’t seen before. He almost froze at the sight of her as she smiled.

“It’s good to see that you’ve found each other again at the end,” she said. Mon-El could feel Kara’s confusion, and he knew he should probably explain, but his tongue was tied.

“Sara?” she asked as she stepped forward, getting out of Mon-El’s arms, yet she still hadn’t let his hand go. “How did you change so fast? What’s…” That was when Mon-El managed to snap out of his stupor.

“That’s not Earth-1 Sara,” he managed to say—whisper, really. “She’s from our earth.” Kara’s brows arched up at that as Mon-El continued, keeping his eyes on Sara, not being able to look away, not being able to forget that…that she was the one that warned him about Kara’s death. She was the reason Kara was alive, she was the reason they were able to get married right now. She’d…she’d saved her.

“She’s the one that warned me about your death,” he finished his words, making Kara turn to him with wide eyes. Sara just smiled at that as if it was nothing—and Mon-El couldn’t help noticing that her smile was way more carefree and happy than he’d last seen her. And…and from the lines on her face, he’d assumed it must’ve been at least a couple of years since their last encounter, even though it was just two months for him.

“I was just returning a favor,” Sara said with a shrug. “If it hadn’t been for you, we wouldn’t be able to fix the timeline, and my friends would’ve died for nothing.” Her eyes turned to Kara, who was just staring at her with a shocked expression. “You deserved this.” Mon-El tightened his grip around Kara’s waist at that, pulling her close, and nodded. He wanted to say how grateful he was for this, he wanted to thank Sara for everything, but his throat…his throat was clogged. He couldn’t even get a word out, but luckily, it seemed like Kara had snapped out of her stupor.

“You saved my life,” she said, which just made Sara shrug again, but there was a glint of amusement in her eyes. Kara briefly glanced at Mon-El before she continued, her grip on his hand tightening. “I… I don’t know how to thank you.”

“You don’t need to,” Sara said as she turned to Mon-El. “I know what it’s like to lose someone you love dearly. It was my pleasure to bring you back to him.” A smile appeared on her face at that. “I just wanted to make sure that my plan had worked…and it seems like it did, better than even I could’ve imagined.”

“Yeah.” Mon-El finally managed to force that word out of his mouth. “Sara, you…you saved my life too.” He pulled Kara close to his chest. “Thank you for that.” Sara just chuckled at that as she shook her head.

“As I said, it was my pleasure.” She flipped her ponytail over her shoulder as she took a step back. “Anyway, that was what I came here to say…and also to offer you my congratulations for your wedding. You two are a really beautiful couple.” She seemed like she was about to leave as she lifted her hand, yet Kara stopped her with her words.

“Wait.” Sara looked up at the Kryptonian, who cleared her throat and glanced at Mon-El. He nodded, gave her a go, right before she turned back to Sara. “Would you like to join the ceremony? It’s… It’s about to end, but we would love to have you there.”

“And your team,” Mon-El chimed in. “You were the ones that made this possible, it’s only fair.” He looked at her hopefully, but Sara just smiled at that and shook her head.

“I would love that, but unfortunately, I have a mission to go to. Time doesn’t fix itself.” Her eyes turned to Mon-El intently. “But if you ever let her slip from your fingers again, I _will_ come back to kick your ass. You have my word on that.” Mon-El chuckled at that, even though he would be the first to kick his ass if that happened.

“I won’t,” he promised her, stroking Kara’s hair when he felt her smile. Sara nodded at them, staring at the couple for one more second.

“Have a long and happy life,” she wished them before she lifted her hand again and pressed a button, instantly disappearing. When Mon-El looked up, he saw Waverider right above them, cloaked of course, rushing away and disappearing. Neither he nor Kara said anything as they watched the sky for a couple of seconds more, at least until he heard her voice.

“I hope she finds her happiness too,” she whispered, putting her hand on his heart. “She deserves that, after everything she did for us.” Mon-El nodded before looking back at her.

“Yeah.” He offered her a small smile before he grabbed her hand and gestured at the wedding with his head. “Now, should we return before they suspect something is going on?” Kara didn’t even hesitate as a smile pulled her lips, and she took her hand in his, letting him lead her to the ceremony after they grabbed their shoes. And after the ceremony, to a new life, a life they would spend together…

And this time, they would have their forever.

 

**_\- End -_ **


End file.
